Don't Shoot the Piano Player
by seditionary
Summary: AU! Set in New York in the 1930s. Morgan is a consulting detective from Chicago; Reid plays piano in a hotel bar. It's supposed to be a one-night stand, but things get complicated, especially when Reid's wife shows up. Slash, sex, violence.
1. The Piano Player

**A/N: Hey there! Ok, this is AU! It is first person POV with Morgan narrating. There will be slash, of course, this is me, you know. Please review-I don't know exactly how this is going to go, so your input will make a difference! Thanks, loves!**

**Seds**

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><p>So, I blew into town late on a Friday night. All I brought with me was a few changes of clothes and my gun-Chicago PD issue, nice and heavy. When I got off the train at Grand Central, I was still under the impression that I wouldn't have to use it. Turned out, I was wrong about that. I was wrong about a lot of things.<p>

It was too late to do any business, so I took a cab to the Belmont Hotel, checked in and found my room-small and a little shabby for the kind of scratch they wanted for it, but hell, it wasn't my dime. I made a couple of calls, thought about calling it a night, but I was antsy and wishing for some company, preferably the kind that might join me in a nightcap, and maybe, later, in bed.

I decided to head down to the bar. Not much happening there, pretty dead in fact, but there was a half-drunk couple swaying on the dance floor, and the music was good. It kind of drew me in, and before I knew it, I was leaning against the battered old baby grand piano, feeling the vibrations flow through the wood and into my groin.

I swirled my gin and tonic and watched the piano player's hands. Long, slender fingers. Elegant-sculpted. Not feminine at all, but graceful-prancing across the keyboard, striking every note, _sharp, _just right. I envied him that skill, I always wanted to play, but seems my talents lie elsewhere. For him, it was natural as breathing, the way he made the notes slide fluidly into the air.

He was a lanky young fellow, wearing a starched white shirt with perspiration stains at the armpits. No surprise about that-never mind the lazy turning of fan blades above us, it was damned hot in there, even after dark. Black suspenders criss-crossed his back. He had on a thin silk tie with little arrows running up the middle and a diamond tie clasp. Classy.

He wore his hair long. It was the color of honey, with thick curls that fell around his neck, topped by a fedora that put his eyes in shadow until he leaned back. When he did, I saw how large and dark they were, looked like you could fall into them if you weren't careful. A cigarette dangled from his lips; he played one-handed when he took a drag, so smooth that you wouldn't even notice if you weren't paying attention.

I waited until he finished the number, then I leaned forward, held up a cigarette between my thumb and forefinger, and said, "Say, pal-can I trouble you for a light?"

He smiled and it was like somebody turned on the sun. I've never seen a smile like that before, all mischief and sex and sweetness like candy. He reached into his breast pocket for a heavy chrome lighter, then stood, flicked a flame from it, leaned toward me and lit me up. I filled my lungs, the kid patted me lightly on the chest, and I noticed that damn smile had deepened.

"There you go, sport," he said. He caught my eye and suddenly I felt hot and electric and I knew I ought to get the hell out of there, but he winked, and I wasn't going anywhere. He sat back and began playing, soft, wispy snatches of some classical piece, taking his time before going into his next dance number. He gave me a little glance from under the brim of his hat, his eyebrow cocked like he was two steps ahead of me, and I fell right into those pretty dark eyes. "So... what are you doing later?" I said.

"Close up shop at midnight." He took his cigarette from an ashtray he kept by him, then looked back at me. No one else was around, so I got right to the point.

"Room 212, if you're interested."

The heart-stopping grin just about slayed me. "Two-twelve. I'll try to remember that."

"I can write it down, if you want."

A slow drag, then tendrils of smoke curled up toward the ceiling as the kid exhaled. "That's okay. Two-one-two. Think I've got it. So, midnight?"

"Midnight."

Those perfect fingers took a boogie-woogie turn, and a few more couples hit the dance floor.

I stuck a bill in the fish bowl where he kept his tips, turned and headed back to the bar. I bought myself another drink and had one sent to the piano player. I liked the way he nodded his head toward me, the way he raised his glass like he was toasting me from across the room.

I wondered if the kid would taste as good as he looked.


	2. Room 212

**A/N: Hey there... Ok, smut time! Yes, please be advised-this chapter contains naughty boy/boy behavior and rude language. Please review, dears!  
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><p>The knock came at 12:12.<p>

I opened the door. The piano player was standing there, his jacket thrown over one shoulder, looking like a million bucks. He tipped his hat, grinned, and sidled past me without saying a word. I closed the door while I took a good look at his ass. It curved nicely under the gabardine, like a warm peach ripe for the picking.

I was salivating already.

"Hey, man-you sounded pretty damn good out there," I said.

"For a white boy?" His voice had that teasing tone, and I got that he was joking. I shrugged.

"For anybody. Been playing long?"

"All my life."

"What's your name?"

"Reid. Yours?"

"Morgan." I went up to him, searched his face, tried to figure him out, but no go-those eyes could keep me out as easily as they could drag me in. I gestured at a chair. "Sit down, let's chat. Want a drink?"

"Didn't come up here for a drink. Or... a chat." The kid's eyes never left mine, they felt like fire on my skin. I guessed I was being studied, too.

"Ah. Well, in that case-" I took his face in my hands and leaned in for a kiss. He went for it, eager; we were clumsy at first, our lips didn't quite mesh on the first try. We hit it sideways, and Reid giggled a little as we adjusted our calculations, but after a minute's fumbling, we got our heads at the right angle, and our tongues ran across one another. I helped myself to a good deep plunge into the kid's warm mouth, and Reid didn't argue.

I pulled him in and ran my hands down his back. Skinny boy. I could have counted off the bones in his spine. Tall, skinny, and a little sweaty, but who wasn't this time of year. I fit my hand around his ass, cradling it like a freshly-hatched chick.

"Uh-you do know what I want, right?" I broke the clench to ask. Just to make sure we were on the same page.

"Think so." He put his arms around my neck and nibbled under my ear, little nips that sent shivers straight through me. "If I'm not mistaken, you want to till my verdant valley with your mighty plowshare, to march your stalwart troops into my defenseless hinterlands, to make your grand entrance through my back door... Uh-am I on the right track?" The crazy talk made me frown, but Reid pulled back and I liked the way his eyes twinkled, all full of knowing and mischief. I moved my other hand down and gave both firm warm cheeks a healthy squeeze while I yanked his hips tightly against my own.

"If that means I want to fuck your cute little ass 'til you can't sit down, then, yeah. You sure you're up for this?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Not your first time, eh?"

"Mm, not quite."

I laid down on the lumpy hotel mattress and pulled Reid on top of me. We kissed some more, not gently, biting and sliding our lips over one another, almost playful, but not really. I took his hat off for him, and threw it onto a chair, then I ran my fingers through the silky strands framing the kid's face. The incandescent glow from a lamp on the dresser turned them into a soft halo of gold, he looked like a goddamn angel. I tilted his face up. "You're pretty, you know that? Pretty like a girl."

Reid laughed. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then-thanks, I guess." He pulled himself up and straddled me as he slipped his suspenders off his shoulders, then began removing his tie. "You're not so bad, yourself."

"You calling me pretty?"

"Uh... no. Handsome. You're handsome." He leaned forward and caught my lower lip between his teeth. "Damned handsome." He said it with his lips still touching mine, and it tickled.

I popped open the buttons on his shirt and pushed it back; he wriggled out of it, leaving him in a sleeveless white undershirt that clung damply to his frame. He opened my shirt and rolled off to lie on his back beside me, tugging at me to get on top, but I just kissed him while I unbuttoned his trousers.

Once I had them down, I gave a low whistle. "Aw, even your dick's pretty. All pink at the top." I took him in my mouth, half expecting him to taste like a vanilla creme with a shot of cherry. He didn't, of course, but was delicious just the same. He sighed and shuddered, then trailed his fingertips down my back. I got lost in the feel of him, the way the soft flesh hardened against my tongue, slick, the tip like velvet with a little tangy liquid leaking out. I swirled my tongue in it, lapping it up.

I sucked him in deep, and the more I pulled him in, the more he moaned and wriggled. I paused to say, "You're not going to last long if I keep going like this."

"Then, stop."

I did, and he pulled away and started working on the front of my trousers, trying to get at my dick. I grunted, this was going too fast, but I unbuttoned and pulled out my cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, and I heard him chuckle. "Well. You're big. Perhaps I've made a... grave miscalculation."

I shifted over and let him have a closer look at the situation. I was hard as hell, and he scrunched lower to examine me with this curious expression on his face that made me laugh. I pushed a thatch of hair out of his eyes, thinking he might have bitten off more than he could chew. "Maybe you better give your calculations a little more consideration-that thing's gonna be inside you, unless you tell me otherwise. What do you think about that?"

"I think you talk too much."

I really laughed then. Reid raised himself and kissed me. It was different this time; slower, deliberate, like he was memorizing how our lips fit together. He gripped my cock and began stroking me with the same easy touch he used on the goddamn piano. I grasped his waist and pushed him onto his back, then dragged the trousers off of his legs. He pulled his undershirt over his head and threw it aside, leaving him naked. I had to take a moment to admire the dusky little nipples on his pale chest, the sinewy muscles of his skinny arms.

"Look at you, boy. Damn, you are a welcome sight to see. Like a present on Christmas morning." I'd fucked a couple of guys back in my army days, hurried couplings, both of us fully-clothed, grunting in the early hours of dawn back behind the barracks. Good for what ails you, you know, but I always wondered what it would be like to take my time, to spoon with some little sweetheart of a fellow... like this. I went in for another kiss, and he lightly caressed my face, curious, sensual.

Then he spread his legs for me.

After that, I was ready to go. I shucked off my clothes, reached toward the nightstand for my shaving kit, and took out a small bottle of oil. I set it aside for the moment, then ran my hands up and down his slim white thighs.

He closed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, open, offering himself to me. I poured oil on my fingers and began massaging his crinkled little entrance. Reid moaned, pulled his legs higher and rested them on my shoulders. He let me tease him for a while, but I could feel his impatience. I finally slid a finger inside him; after a moment, I added another. Reid hissed, and arched against my hand. "That's good, that feels really good..."

"I'm gonna get you ready for me, pretty boy. Want this to go real nice and easy." I watched Reid's face and as I worked to stretch his tight little hole, I saw him lower his eyes. He took a good look at my erection, then at me.

I felt wicked. I licked my lips. "Like what you see, baby?"

He laughed, a little ruefully. "Uh-yes. Although, am I wrong to be terrified right now?"

"Aw, don't worry. I'll go easy on you." I leaned in for a kiss. "At first." I sat back on my heels and poured more oil into my hand, then I coated my cock until it felt good and slick. It glistened in the pale yellow light, ready, aching.

"Mm." Reid held onto my shoulders; I probed at his entrance. He gasped when I went in, and I searched his eyes, trying to make sure I hadn't hurt him.

"You okay, kid?"

"Yeah... Damn." He swallowed hard. I could feel him force himself to relax.

"Want me to stop?"

"No... No, just, you know-go slow. Please." He looked into my eyes, and I bent forward and buried my face in his neck.

I whispered in his ear, "I will. Listen, I'm not going to hurt you-you know that, right?"

"Yeah, you seem like a stand-up kind of guy." Reid settled back into the mattress as I pushed further inside him. I watched the kid's face as he was filled, stretched, penetrated. I saw the nervousness pass, the pleasure come. I went in, inch by inch, controlled, and I think he was thankful for that. When our bodies were tightly pressed together, he looked at me and for a moment, he really did look like a kid.

"You a cop?" he asked.

"Now, what makes you say that?"

He laughed a little. "I meet a lot of cops. You've got that... air about you. Also, I saw your gun under your jacket. Government issue."

"Problem?"

"Not for me. Some of the fellows around here, though-they might not like you as much as I do."

"We gonna talk all through this?"

"Maybe if you'd... get down to business, I'd shut up."

"Careful what you ask for, kid-I'm gonna fuck your little ass so hard-"

"Do it."

"You're still talking?"

"Maybe if you kissed me again..."

I dipped down and caught his lips. I moved my hips in a tight circle at the same time and that got me a moan, a throaty sound from deep in his throat that made me grin. "Like that, huh?"

"God, yes."

I settled in. I was going at it with long, slow strokes, and Reid jerked his hips upward to meet me halfway, clinging to my body as he shuddered and bucked. "Harder," he whispered into my ear. I had no problem obeying that order, I was holding myself on outstretched arms and I focused all my strength into fucking that sweet yielding body, listening to every groan and gasp he made, responding with my own.

The kid bit down on my shoulder. I was so far gone, it just felt good. He was jerking himself, and I guess I was banging his sweet spot dead-on because it didn't take long before thick ropy strands of creamy white cum shot out onto his belly and chest. "'Atta boy," I rasped. "Come for me."

"Oh, fuck..." Reid gasped, his voice weak, barely there, as he panted under me, then stilled.

After that, I felt it coming on, myself. His little ass was a hot, tight fit, and I just kept pumping away inside him, not really conscious of anything but his heat gripping my cock, making me feel like a rutting animal, all grunts and groans that sounded like roaring in my ears, and when it finally rolled through me, I just collapsed on top of him, breathing him in, letting the release flood out of me until I felt like a sprung wire.

At this point, Reid wasn't moving much, and I lifted my head to take a look at him. "You okay, kid?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sorry-I know it took me a long time. You sure I didn't hurt you?"

"Uh-uh. I'm fine. Could you, maybe, get off of me, now, though? I can't breathe."

"Oh-sure." I rolled over to lie beside him and I put my arm around him and pulled him close. "That was out of this world, man."

"Yeah. It was... extraordinary." Reid sort of wriggled into me, resting his head on my chest, and the scratch of his stubble-covered jaw felt good. We lay there like that for a while, then he reached for his shirt and took out a pack of smokes and his lighter. He lit a cigarette and after taking a drag, offered it to me. I took it, and inhaled deeply. We shared it, in between languid kisses, then Reid twisted around to check the clock on the nightstand. "Damn, it's nearly two o'clock. I need to get going." He reached for an ash tray and stubbed out the cig.

I frowned. "Oh, yeah? Where do you have to be?"

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Home. The wife, you know. She worries."

My mouth fell open and I huffed in disgust. "You're _married?"_

"Yeah... But, it's not what you think."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean, it's okay, me being here. With you. She doesn't mind."

"Really. Your wife doesn't mind you taking a little horizontal refreshment with another man."

"Nope. And, I don't mind when she does it with another woman, so, you know, it works out. But, she was expecting me home tonight, so I better get a move on. This was wonderful, though. You really hit on all sixes, Morgan." Reid flashed that grin and kissed me affectionately before he stood up and started to dress.

I watched him, not sure what to say, but I finally said, "Yeah. Okay." I rolled off the bed and pulled on my underwear, then followed Reid to the door. He stopped, his hand on the knob, and looked back at me. I asked, "So-you playing tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, every night but Sunday."

"Maybe I'll see you again."

"Sure. How long are you in town?"

"Don't know. Depends."

Reid glanced over to the chair where my gat was lying under my jacket and nodded. "I imagine so. What's your business?"

"I'm supposed to observe NYPD procedures and report back to the chief in Chicago. Like those characters got anything on us."

Reid put on his hat and straightened his tie. "Ah. Well, good night. It was fun." He winked, and tipped his hat. Then, he slipped out the door and was gone.

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><p><strong>P.S. A reviewer made reference to segregation in the 30s. This is being written for fun and with the hope that my readers will employ the willing suspension of disbelief for the sake of enjoying the story, and that they will not allow the horrid social conditions that existed in "real life" in the 1930s (and much of history) to distract them from that pursuit. I do apologize for not making a statement to that effect in the first chapter. I did not intend to be insensitive.<strong>

**Seds**


	3. A Little Breakfast

**A/N: Whoa, it's been a while, huh? Sorry about that! I had some serious writer's block on this story, but hopefully I'm past it. **

**This chapter introduces mobster!Rossi (I love Fat Tony on the Simpsons) and we meet a local waitress who you will no doubt recognize...**

**Please review, loves.**

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><p>After my night blessedly rockin' and rollin' in bed with the skinny piano player, I had a hell of a time waking up the next morning. Good sex after a long train ride had me wrung out like a wet rag, but I forced myself to get up, head down the hall and take a steaming hot shower. I got dressed in my good gray suit and then walked a few blocks to a little diner I'd noticed the day before-looked like a place for some nice stiff java and maybe a couple of eggs over-easy.<p>

I had two hours before I had to be downtown to meet Chief Hotchner, and I tried to get my mind on the right track for work, but I couldn't stop thinking about the kid. Damn, he'd already wormed his way into my brain like nobody's business. I kept thinking how it was to kiss him, and how he kissed me back- slow, like in that moment there was nobody for him but me. I thought about how his cute little ass cheeks fit in my hands, and how it felt to be moving inside him.

Then, I got to thinking about him being married. I could just imagine his wife-probably some cute little blue-eyed blonde that'd fit in his pocket. I wondered if they ever did the deed with each other, given their mutual interest in lovers of their own sex, and for a minute, I had a picture of Reid and his dream girl jazzin' it up in the sack, sweat pouring off hot skin onto soaked sheets all through one of these blistering New York nights, and I almost walked right past the diner.

I caught myself and went in and took a seat at the counter. A full-figured gal with a lot of blonde curls and horn-rimmed glasses came up to take my order. "What'll it be, sugar?" she asked. She had the reddest lips I'd ever seen, long red fingernails, and a sassy-sweet attitude that I liked right away.

"I need the biggest damn cup of joe you ever saw, a stack of eggs sunny-side-up, bacon, and a side of hash, if you got it." I grinned at her and she grinned back.

"You think you might want a little piece of toast to go with that, hot stuff?" she asked.

I read the name embroidered on the pocket of her waitress uniform-_Penny. _"Well, if it's not too much trouble, Miss Penny."

"You got it. Hey, Mac-_two dots and a dash, sweep the kitchen and put it on a raft!"_ She turned back to me and winked. "I'll get your coffee." She moved off to pour me a cup, and I swiveled around to take in the sights. The diner was bustling but not packed, there were still a few tables open, and I sized up the local patrons. An old couple sitting by the window, eating in silence. A group of suits were taking up three tables by the juke box, doing business over coffee and pancakes-looked like a bunch of middle-management types. A young couple wrangled a small child, hell-bent on eating his breakfast off the floor.

And, in the far corner? Three wise-guys. I could tell by the identical rings they were sporting and the occasional loud snatch of Italian that wafted in the air, followed by raucous laughter. I didn't recognize any of them as Chicago transplants-they were young guys, probably a new crop of recruits, low on the totem pole.

Just then, the door opened and all three made welcoming noises and I looked to see who warranted such regard, only to see my old buddy, Gentleman David Rossi, formerly of the East Side, now a resident of Chicago, making his grand entrance. He had on a hand-tailored suit that fit him like a second skin, a silk hankie, and gold cufflinks. A heavy diamond ring glittered on his finger, and when he raised his hand to greet his men, I spotted his piece in a holster tucked under his arm.

Just the man I wanted to see.

He strolled over to the table, but I knew he'd taken in the entire joint by the time he reached his seat, and I felt his eyes rest on me for just a quarter of a second too long. I scoped out the street; no one was out there. I guessed I didn't need to jump behind the counter to avoid a spray from a Chicago typewriter, so I turned back and took a sip of coffee. I could tell when he came up behind me-I could smell the thick cloak of his cologne. He sat on the stool next to mine and raised a finger to get the waitress' attention. Miss Penny scurried over to him with a big-and slightly nervous-smile.

"Good morning, Mr. R. What'll you have?" she asked deferentially.

"I'll take a steak, rare, and scrambled eggs, please. Side of hash.

"Coffee, hon?"

"Orange juice. No pits."

"Coming right up. Hey, Mac-chop chop! Steak on the hoof, two eggs_-_-_wreck 'em-_and, the gentleman will take a chance!" She turned back to Rossi.

"Oh-you want onions on that steak?"

"Yes, please."

_"Make it cry!"_

Penny smiled again at the mobster, then she looked at me. Thinking better of asking me any questions, she turned and went to get the man's juice.

"Detective Morgan," Rossi said smoothly. "What a delightful, and may I say, unexpected, encounter. Clearly, you have excellent taste in vacation spots." Rossi brought out a ciggy and lit up. I did the same, then took a swig of java before responding.

"Yeah, thought I'd catch a few shows, take a stroll in Central Park, hit the museums. You know, tourist stuff."

"Perhaps you'll allow me to suggest a few restaurants. I know a place that'll do you a killer braciole. You like steak?"

"Love it. I bet you do know where all the good eats are, huh?"

"Of course, this is my home town. And, I'm glad to be back."

"So, you planning on sticking around a while?"

Rossi grinned. "We'll see. Well, enjoy your breakfast, detective. I'm sure I'll see you around town."

"You can count on it." I didn't return his grin, and he dipped his head with mock respect, then headed back to his table full of goons.

I picked at my meal, thinking back. In 1932, Rossi'd been sent to Chi-town to open up a branch of the family business. Now he was back in the Big Apple. Chief Hotchner didn't like that, and neither did I. Rossi'd made his name in the old days of Prohibition, and then he'd used what he knew about running illegal substances to become a big wheel in bringing dope to my hometown. Hotchner and I both figured he was back in NYC to teach the locals some of his tricks.

That's why I got the call. I know a thing or two about how the man operates.

I lingered, wanting to see if any more of the family would join the fun at table number nine, but one by one the three youngsters departed, apparently given their orders by the old man and sent on their way. Rossi remained alone, sipping his juice and staring out the window. I was done with my meal, but Miss Penny kept the coffee coming and I was determined to outlast him.

Finally, he threw a few bills on the table, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and got up to leave. He gave me a sideways glance and a nod on his way out, and I watched him saunter down the street. I paid, bid the lovely waitress _adios_, and followed him at a distance. I saw him turn the corner and stop at a long black Cadillac parked at the curb. I slipped in the corner drugstore and watched through a window as his driver opened the door for him, but just then, who should come loping down the sidewalk but my pretty little lover from last night, Reid.

I expected him to make the corner, and I have to admit, I got a few butterflies in my belly at the thought. I kind of wanted to get one of those million-dollar smiles off him again, but before I could turn to go back out on the street, I saw Rossi pause and step up to greet him. To my horror, he took Reid's hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically, and Reid smiled and said something that made the old mobster laugh. They stood there yakking for a good five minutes, and I didn't know what to make of it, but I didn't like it.

Not one bit.


	4. A Fellow Like That

**A/N: Ok, big thanks to Rayne McKenna for giving me a shove to get this posted, lol! I really am trying to get back on track with this one, I promise. **

**Reviews are most welcome! **

**Thanks, everyone!**

**Seds**

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><p>I waited until the skinny little piano player ambled around the corner. He paused right in front of me to light a ciggy, and I waited 'til he was done to say, "You're up early." He turned, surprised, then a big damn smile crossed his face.<p>

"Hey, Morgan! Good morning! Didn't expect to see you again so soon." He held out his hand, the one that had just been shaken by a goddamn drug-dealing mobster, and I didn't bother to take it. He pulled it back slowly and frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

Reid pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. "I was just about to suggest that, as a matter of fact. Dino's?" He gestured toward the diner I'd just left and I agreed and started walking. He followed, and I headed into the hash joint a few paces ahead of him. Penny the waitress looked up and grinned at me.

"Back so soon, gorgeous? I _thought_ there was a little spark between us. What'll you-" Just then, Reid came up behind me and Penny's face lit up. _"Sweetie-pie!" _she squealed.

"Hi, honey," Reid answered. He leaned over the counter and they kissed like a couple of school kids. My jaw fell about five feet.

"Morgan, this is my wife, Penelope. Pen, this is the fellow I was telling you about, the one I ran into last night-"

"Oh, honey, it sounded more like he ran into _you," _she said with a lascivious smirk. She turned back to me and held out her hand. I took it and pressed a kiss onto the back of it, noting the modest gold band on her ring finger. I thought I did a pretty good job of hiding my shock at discovering that my sweet little lover from the night before was married to such a dilly of a dish.

Mrs. Reid giggled, and looked from me to him, then back to me. "Well, I knew my husband had good taste, but he's headed into Cadillac country now. Baby-doll, do you want your usual? And, Mr. M, you want anything else? Another cup of joe? Or-how about a sweet roll?" Her eyebrow was raised sky-high at that, and Reid grinned. I couldn't help but snarl a bit.

People ought not to talk so brazenly at that hour of the morning.

"I'm fine, thanks. Reid, let's get a table."

"Uh-sure thing." He gave me a puzzled look, then smiled at his frau and squeezed her hand before following me to the back of the room.

"What the heck's the matter with you? I told you I was married," he chided as we sat down.

"It's not that. Well, it's kind of that, I mean, I'm not used to-look, never mind. I want to know what the hell you were doing out there, chatting it up with Gentleman Dave Rossi, huh?"

Reid threw his hat on an empty chair, settled in his seat and stared at me, frowning. "'Gentleman' Dave? Who calls him that?"

"That's the moniker they stuck him with at the Chicago Police Department when we hauled him in on racketeering charges-the first time. What does he want with you? You got a little... hobby?" I asked, glancing pointedly at his forearm.

His frown became deeper. "What? Are you asking if I buy drugs from him?" He sounded genuinely shocked.

"Yeah, I'm asking. Musician, skinny, dark circles under your eyes-you kind of fit the type."

"Look, Morgan, I know you're a cop, but you shouldn't make assumptions about people based on a few superficial factors. No, I'm not a dope fiend, for heaven's sake."

"Then, how do you know him?" I paused as a sick thought suddenly hit my brain. "Oh, shit-you haven't been screwing him, have you?"

Reid's eyes widened. "No! Jeeze, Morgan, what do you take me for? I can't believe you'd think-look, I don't mess around with fellows like that, that would be most ill-advised. Anyway, he's not my type." He shook his head vigorously and looked up as Penny brought him his breakfast. "Thank you, dear," he said softly.

"Sure, babe." She stood there just a moment too long, then asked. "Everything copacetic over here?"

"Yeah, absolutely." I gave her a small smile and she nodded.

"Okey-dokey. Let me know if you need anything."

She went back to the counter, shot us another glance, then went to wait on a customer.

I went back to grilling Pretty Boy. "So? Spill it, junior. What do you and Rossi have to jaw about?"

By now, Reid was pretty irritated with me, and he gave me an exasperated look. "If you must know, he heard me playing one night at the hotel and asked if I would do his daughter's wedding." He spread his hands apart and shrugged. "That's it, Morgan, that's the deep dark secret. He wants me to play 'Here Comes the Bride' at an old-fashioned Italian wedding. Shocked?" Reid spooned a few mounds of sugar into his coffee cup and took a swig before tucking into his syrup-laden pancakes. Kid obviously had a sweet tooth.

I rested my chin in my hand and regarded him. He seemed to be telling the truth, and I felt kind of bad. Maybe I had been a little hard on him.

"Okay. Sorry, kiddo, I just-Rossi's a wrong number, you know? A real bad egg. You ought to stay away from him."

Reid chuckled, but he didn't sound amused. "Oh, sure. You think I'm going to say no to a simple business request from a cat like that and end up wearing a wooden kimono? Please." He poured more syrup on the flapjacks. "Anyway, the money's not exactly bad, and I can sure use a little cash infusion. So, that's the story, morning-glory. Are you still mad at me?"

I grinned, and laughed a little. "No, I'm just-I'm worried, that's all. Wouldn't want you to bite off more than you can chew."

Reid glanced back at his wife. "I've already done that, believe me." He gave me a mischievous grin. "So... You're on your way to the station, right?"

"That's right. And, I better get going. Don't want to keep the chief waiting." I got up, then paused as a thought hit me. "So, the Belmont's one of Rossi's haunts, huh?"

"Yeah, I've seen him there a few times. What of it?"

"Nothing." We stared at each other for a long moment, then I just said, "Be careful, okay, kid?"

"Of course." He smiled again. "I didn't just fall out of a tree, Morgan. I do know my way around, you know? I'll be fine."

I nodded. "Okay. See you later? Tonight?"

His smile softened and he got that sweet look, the one that made me want to be back in that bed with the lumpy mattress with him. "Sure. Midnight. Two-twelve, wasn't it?"

"You got a great memory, kid."

He laughed. I tipped my hat to him, waved at Miss Penny, and headed for the downtown PD.


	5. New York

**A/N: Whoa, look at me go, an update! Some plot development here, but SMUT at end of chapter.**

**Hope you like, loves.**

**Seds**

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><p>I made it down to the cop station with a few minutes to spare, so I stopped to use the john-not a refreshing experience in the New York summer heat, may I say-then I headed straight up to the second floor and found Hotchner's office.<p>

I tapped on the translucent glass and heard a curt "Enter," so I opened the door and stepped in. Hotchner was seated at his desk, and a beautiful brunette was standing beside him, holding some papers in her hands. I nodded at her, then addressed the Chief of Police.

"Morning, Chief Hotchner. I'm Derek Morgan."

"Come in. Please, have a seat-and, call me Hotch. This is my secretary, Emily Prentiss."

The dark-haired beauty leaned forward and we shook hands. "Very nice to meet you, Detective. I've heard a lot about you."

I gave her a grin. "All good things, I hope."

Her lips barely moved into a smile-a real serious type, I could tell. Kind of gal I'd take some pleasure in trying to get a laugh out of, if this were a different kind of meeting. As it was, she turned back to her boss and said, "So, you'll need twenty copies of this?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll have them ready for you by noon."

"Thank you. Oh, and Emily-see that we're not disturbed."

"Yes, sir." Emily moved away from the desk, gave me a sultry look, and I didn't hide my appreciation for her long, silky gams as she sashayed past me on her way out. Looked to me like Hotchner didn't mind looking at them, either. The door closed behind her, and I turned and said, "Choice piece of calico you got there."

He gave me a sharp look, and I thought maybe I'd stepped on his toes, but then he relaxed and nodded. "She definitely makes the office a little less grim. Well-let's get down to business, all right?"

"At your service. What do we have so far?"

"Not much. We've got some ears out there, we know Rossi's movements, but he's keeping a low profile. We haven't had any real increase in violent crime or drug-related fatalities to date. But, I don't believe he's come back here for fun." He clamped a hard stare down on me, then asked, "What's your read?"

"I saw him having a little con-fab with some low-rent hatchetmen this morning. And, I hear he likes to hang out at the Belmont." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Not a coincidence that that's where I'm staying, is it?"

Hotch smiled slightly. "No, it's not. In fact, I've heard that's his favorite watering hole, so I thought you might keep an eye out, maybe even get some of the employees to sing."

"Right. Well, I already heard that his daughter's getting married soon."

Hotch nodded. "Do you think it's possible that this is strictly a social situation?"

I laughed. "Hell, no. Rossi's been itching to get back home for a long time, and you're the one that told me old man De La Torre's looking to expand his territory. Too much of a coincidence for my taste. No, Rossi's definitely putting the wheels in motion, and if he's staying true to form, he's starting off right under your nose."

Hotch frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Rossi's lazy, but he's smart. He's going to make things easy on himself. So, he starts with the cops. I bet you anything he's already got a few of your flatfoots on his payroll. He'll work his way up. My advice is to look in your own back yard before he gets the bulge on you."

Hotch sighed and sat back in his chair. "Right. What do you suggest we do to head him off?"

"Do I have your permission to interview some of your boys?"

"Of course. But, I've already briefed them to be aware of Rossi's influence. If they see something and they're honest, they'll come forward. The others..."

"I'm not worried about them. I told you, Rossi's smart. He doesn't want your cheap, dirty cops any more than you do."

Hotch's face squeezed up and he gave me a funny look. "So-who does he want?"

"The ones you'd never imagine, the good ones going through hard times. The one with a sick wife or mother, or too many kids and not enough paycheck. The rookie who plays the horses in his spare time and loses big, or one who's in too deep with a shylock. When I find them, I'll find the ones Rossi's going to put on the pad."

"And, what makes you think my men will spill to you?"

I smiled. "That's what I do, Hotch. I get them to talk, and I figure it out. Just give me a room and a piece of paper, and I'll have a list for you by the end of the day."

Hotch ran a hand through his hair, spreading sweat among the slicked-back strands. "All right. You know what you're doing, or so they say. Just don't make a wrong move, or Rossi'll lay so low, we'll never catch him."

I gave him a grim nod. "Don't worry, they'll never know what I'm driving at. This isn't my first rodeo."

"All right. I'll have Miss Prentiss set it up." He regarded me for a moment, and I thought I saw a glint of distrust. But then he said, "Thank you for doing this. We need all the help we can get," and I decided he'd figured me for an okay guy, and I shook his hand before he called his secretary and gave her instructions.

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><p>It was a long, grueling day, mostly because I had to play the role of the good-natured rube from Chicago, here to find out how the big boys do it. I'm damn good at it though, and by the time six o'clock rolled around, I had a list of six prime candidates, plus a couple of maybes. I gave it to Hotch, turned down his offer of dinner, and headed back to my hotel. I wanted to let everything kind of roll around in my head for a while, make some phone calls to check up on things back home, and enjoy looking forward to an after-hours diversion between me and the sweet little piano player.<p>

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><p>The knock came at 12:12 AM, just as expected. I opened the door, and Reid was standing there, a teasing, anticipatory grin on his face. I grinned back and yanked him inside, then jammed him against the wall and started kissing the hell out of him. He was laughing, and after a little struggling, managed to pull his mouth away from mine. "Hold on, there, tiger! Just a second, let me catch my breath!" he gasped.<p>

I held him tight by his hips but let him breathe, then went in again, nice and slow this time; he leaned into it and kissed me back, using his tongue to taste me, to know me. He wriggled closer and for a long beautiful moment, it was just him and me, our bodies, our mouths, warm and wet, and nothing else.

I stopped long enough to pull back and look into his beautiful eyes. They were bright, brilliant, full of life and excitement, and they pulled me right inside like always. I smiled at him, held his face in my hands, and didn't even notice when the words, "Pretty boy," slipped past my lips.

He laughed again. "I really am determined to take that as a compliment."

"It is. Trust me." I buried my face in his neck, inhaled him, kissed and nipped at the salty, velvety skin, then ran my hands downward. "I've been thinking about this all day, Reid. I don't think I can wait any more. Let's get you out of those damn clothes, what do you say?"

"Mm, yes-excellent idea."

He turned and started undressing as he walked toward the bed. I did the same, and managed not to take my eyes off him even once. Life's too short to miss a second of a vision like that.

He stood with his back to me and finished slipping out of his clothes, revealing his back, his shoulder blades, his round little ass cheeks. I came up behind him, put my hands on his shoulders and nuzzled his neck again. With my lips next to his ear I asked, "What's your given name, baby?" It didn't seem right to keep calling him "Reid," seeing what we'd done, and were about to do, with each other.

"Spencer," he said, turning his head to give me a backwards glance. "And you?"

"Derek." I pulled him in, caressing his chest, his taut belly, then I took him in hand and stroked him until he was hard. He leaned back and gripped the arm I had across his waist with one hand and put the other behind my neck. He let his weight fall against my chest, and I fancied he could feel the rapid beating of my heart.

"Derek..." he whispered. I had him thrusting into my hand, then I let go and bent him over the edge of the bed. I got on my knees and used my tongue to pleasure him right where I intended to bury my cock in a matter of minutes.

He was making soft, wonderful noises, then I stood and pulled him up, turned him around and guided him to his knees. He looked up at me, his eyes clouded with want, but he dutifully took me in his mouth and began to suck. He cradled my balls and gently squeezed them and rolled them in his hand, and I felt myself dissolve into it.

It was so sweet, the pleasure just washed over me in waves that turned into torrents. I knew I wouldn't be good for much if I let him continue, and I really wanted to come inside him, so I finally, reluctantly, pulled him up and around again, then slicked up my cock and entered him from behind. He groaned and worked his ass back onto me, urging me in, and we started rocking back and forth in rhythm as I drove in deeper and harder, and I heard him moaning into the bedclothes.

It didn't take long. I spurted into him, hot, wanting him, wanting him for my own, yet knowing that wasn't going to happen-wouldn't happen, even if he didn't have a wife-and I pushed away the sorrow with my release.

Afterwards, we lay on the bed together, wrapped in each other's arms, too hot and tired and sticky to talk. I glanced at the clock. Getting close to 2:00 AM. I lifted his chin. "You going to run off and leave me again?" I asked softly.

He followed my gaze, then shook his head sleepily. "No. I told Penny I'd be staying with you tonight." He looked up at me. "That's okay, right?"

"Very okay. And, she didn't mind?"

He chuckled. "Nope. I think she had a date herself, judging by the outfit she had on."

I grinned, imagining Miss Penny decked out for an evening on the town.

"Well, that's good, I guess."

"I told you, it works out." He snuggled against me, and I felt his body give in to sleep.

I pulled him in a little closer, and did the same.


	6. A Knock at the Door

**A/N: Oh, heck, I'm lame. So sorry for the wait on this update. It's too hot, RL sucks, blah blah blah, I'm really sorry, please review. **

**Ooo, and on a brighter note, keep in mind that it's almost time to nominate your fave CM fics for the second annual "Profilers Choice Awards" hosted by the Chit Chat on Author's corner forum. Look for it in the upcoming weeks at the forum. (If you subscribe to the forum you'll get the notice when it comes out.) **

**Anyway, here's Chapter 6!**

**Love,**

**Seds**_**  
><strong>_

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><p>I woke up groggy. The clock inside my head told me it wasn't even six AM yet, but I forced my eyes to open and roused myself enough to stretch. Only, I couldn't. I couldn't even pull my arm up. Confused, I looked down to see a tangle of soft brown curls resting on my chest and a long skinny arm thrown across my belly-that was when it occurred to me that it had been too damn long since I'd woken up with someone nestled in my arms.<p>

The sweet little piano player was wedged up tight against me, and his even breathing told me my stirrings hadn't disturbed him in the least. I took a moment to enjoy the feel of him-his weight, his warmth, his silky-soft skin against mine-and it made me grin. Reminded me of a puppy I used to sneak into bed with me when I was a kid. But, by then I was fully awake, and I really needed to move.

"Hey. Hey, kid. Wake up. I want to turn over."

He lifted his head and cracked open an eye just enough to give me a sleepy glare. "Shhh..." was all he said, then he settled back against me like I was his own personal teddy bear.

Which would have been okay, but he also happened to run one hand down over my belly, down to my cock, and damned if he didn't give it a squeeze.

The boy was just making trouble for himself.

I growled, rolled over on him and tangled with him until I had him laughing helplessly. I wrapped his long legs around my waist, got him slicked up, open and ready, then I fucked him silly all over again, made him cuss and yell and say my name until he came.

Afterward, I said stuff to him-stupid, teasing things, like he was a kid. I don't know why. Something about him... He just laughed, told me that, for a hard-boiled bastard like me, I sure was a sucker for a little nookie, and to go back to sleep. I pulled him into my arms and worked my face into that warm place under his neck. I had just about dozed off again, when _rap-rap-rap_, a sharp knock came at the door.

It wasn't just a regular knock, like you get when the maid wants to come in to change the sheets, or the damn hotel manager comes to tell you that you were aggravating the neighbors with your noisy fucking, and would you please try to hold it down a little, Romeo, for God's sake? It was... rapid.

Relentless.

Desperate.

Reid looked at me, a questioning frown on his face. I looked back, shrugged, and said, "What the hell?"

I got up and pulled on my drawers, yelling, "Just a minute," then went to the door. I opened it to find a very pretty Miss Penny standing there, dressed to the nines in a shimmery dark purple dress that hugged her dangerous curves like nobody's business. My smile of greeting was stopped dead by the fact that I remembered that I'd just fucked her husband, and that he was still naked under the covers, keeping his side of the bed warm.

That, plus the expression on her face that told me there was trouble.

I cleared my throat. "Oh, uh-hey. Good morning, Mrs. Reid."

She took a moment to look me up and down, paying special attention to my chest and the front of my shorts, for some reason, and I got the feeling she kind of liked what she saw. But, she just shook her head like she was trying to keep her mind on her business, and in a raw voice she asked, "Is he here?" Sounded to me like she'd been crying.

"Who?"

"My husband, Spencer! Is he here? Is my Spencey here?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm here, honey." I hear Reid groan as he sat up. "What in the world are you doing here at this hour, sweetie?"

"Oh, Spencer!" Penny rushed past me and threw herself into Reid's arms, taking a seat on his lap, which I was kind of grateful to see was still covered by the blanket, considering what we'd just been up to. Reid hugged her, and peered at me over her shoulder while he patted her back in a comforting way.

"There, there, angel, what in God's name is the matter? Tell me, okay?" He pulled back and searched her face. She glanced at me, then back at Reid.

"It's Emmy. She's gone!"

"Gone?" Reid asked, puzzled. "What do you mean, gone?"

"We were at that gin joint we like-you know, the Blue Mango. We were having a real good time, and I mean a _real_ good time, then I went to the ladies' room to powder my nose, and when I got back, she was gone!"

"Who's Emmy?" I asked.

"She's, uh, Penelope's lady friend. You know-her _special _friend." Reid gave me a meaningful look, and Penelope swiveled on his lap and nodded at me, tears running down her cheeks.

"We've been seeing each other for a few months, now. She's the cat's whiskers, you know? A real lollapalooza." She dabbed at her eyes with a pink hankie and sniffed. "Oh, Spencey-I can't lose her. I just can't!"

"It's all right, sweetheart-Morgan's a cop, he can help. Just tell us what happened."

"Well-after I used the powder room, I went back to the bar, but Em wasn't there. I couldn't find her, so I started asking around. The bartender told me a man came in there and started talking to her. That she got real antsy, like she didn't like what he was saying-but they headed toward the back exit together. I ran out there and this gal told me Emmy got in a car with the guy-but that it looked like she didn't want to go. Oh, Spencer, she's been kidnapped!" She looked back at Reid and started bawling again.

Reid gave me a worried look.

"Why would anyone kidnap Emmy?" he asked me, as if I had a clue.

"I don't know. Did the gal tell you what the car looked like?"

"It was a big black Cadillac. She said there was a man in the back wearing a big diamond ring and heavy gold cufflinks." Penny looked from me to Reid and back at me again. "It sounds like Dave Rossi."

Reid nodded, absently stroking Penny's shoulder. "Darling, go home."

"What? No! I want to help you find her!"

"There's nothing you can do, Penelope. And, Emmy might be fine, and if she is, she'll call the house looking for you. Please, sweetheart, go. Detective Morgan will do everything he can to help. Right?" He looked up at me and I frowned.

"Excuse my ignorance here, folks, but why aren't we calling the goddamn local New York City police department, may I ask?"

Penny and Reid glanced at each other, and Reid took a deep breath.

"Because, if it came out that Emmy was a frequent patron of the Blue Mango nightclub, it could threaten her job."

"Huh? Why?"

"The Blue Mango is a place for ladies. Just... ladies," Penny explained.

"Oh! But-"

"And, Emmy works for the police department. She's Police Chief Hotchner's secretary," Reid added.

That was when I realized that Miss Penny's special lady-friend was Emily Prentiss.


	7. Finding Emily

**A/N: Whew, finally got back to this! Thank you to everyone for patiently waiting, and thanks to Nebula for nudging me! **

**Ok, guys, this is the _action_ chapter... And, there's probably only one or two more to go, just so you know. **

**Seds**

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><p>Well, Miss Penny put up a hell of a fight. She argued and wheedled and stamped her foot over wanting to go with us to find Prentiss, but Reid managed to send her on home. He handled her like a high-strung filly, gentling her down until he got her out the door with a hug and a kiss and a little smack on her fine ass. He turned and gave me an exhausted look, and I congratulated him. My guess was that he'd gone a couple of rounds with his blonde bombshell before.<p>

He and I took turns using the bathroom down the hall to get cleaned up and dressed. Once we were ready, I said, "I'll go get us a cab."

Reid shook his head. "No need. I have a car. Come on, let's go." He strode out the door, and I followed him down to the street.

He led me to his boiler, which turned out to be a beat-up old Duesenberg. We hopped in, and headed out. Reid drove like an old lady until we got out of the neighborhood, then he scared the shit out of me, taking the creaky old roadster up to 75 miles an hour and more.

"Damn, boy, you trying to kill us?" I asked, clamping a hand down on my hat to keep it from flying off.

"Oh, relax. It's fine. Hand me that deck of Luckies, will you?" Reid managed to take a sharp turn and light his cigarette at the same time. I shook my head, feeling terrified, but damned impressed even so.

I noticed we were heading away from town. "Where the hell are we going?" I asked.

"I think I know where Emmy is."

"Oh, yeah? And, how would you know that?"

"A few weeks ago, Rossi had me meet him at what he called his office to talk about his daughter's wedding. It's in an old warehouse down by the docks. Looked to me like the kind of place he'd go to do some dirty business."

I stared at him; he had a grim expression on his face. "So, what-we're just going to go barge in on the man and ask him if he happens to have a police chief's secretary tied up somewhere on the premises?"

"Not exactly. I know a back way in."

I almost laughed. "Listen, kid, I've been a cop a long time, and I need to tell you something-the two of us storming into the middle of Rossi's hideout is not a good idea. Those are _not_ healthy odds."

"We won't 'storm' anything. We'll sneak in and have a look."

"That's crazy. Rossi's gang is well-armed, and between the two of us we have exactly one revolver-"

"Two." Reid patted his jacket pocket.

My eyebrows shot up. "You're packing iron?" I asked.

"I don't always play the nicest establishments. I like a little protection."

I couldn't believe the skinny boy had a roscoe in his pocket, but I let it go.

"Still, the two of us can't go up against Rossi and his boys by ourselves."

"We won't. I called a friend of mine while you were in the john. He's going to meet us there."

"Oh, I see. Some pal of yours is ready to knock Rossi over the head with his clarinet?"

Reid gave me a sneer. "No. He's well-armed, himself. He can handle Rossi, plus he's going to bring a few 'boys' of his own."

Now I really didn't know what to think of my little piano player. I decided to reason with him.

"Come on, Spencer, you're in way over your head. I can't let you put yourself in danger like this. Pull over and let me call Hotch. He'll get us all the fire power we need."

"We don't even know for sure that Emmy's in there, and if she is, we have no time. There's no telling what Rossi's doing to her, and if anything happens to her, Penelope will never forgive me." He had a worried frown on his face, and I felt like screaming.

"This isn't your problem, Reid! Let law enforcement handle it-"

I was going to keep going, but we rounded a corner and I saw we were coming up on the water. Reid slowed down, and took us along a winding road until we were right up on the docks. He pulled into a deserted lot, parked behind a shed, and we got out. He pointed at our target-a big warehouse building that looked like it had been out of commission for a long time. We took a roundabout path, shinnied over a bad piece of fencing and strode up, nearing a back entrance. No one was around and we stood there for a minute, just listening.

A woman's scream tore through the quiet.

Reid's eyes locked on mine. "Damn it. That's Emily. Come on."

"Reid, no! We don't even know where we're going-"

"I do." Reid was at the door in a flash. He quickly picked the lock-the boy was full of surprises-and we slipped in.

It was dark. It took us a minute to get our bearings and for our eyes to adjust, but I could tell we were in a long hallway. We pulled our guns, and we crept along, me following him, and we listened, but at first we didn't hear anything else. As we made our way past first one door, then another, we became aware of voices in one of the rooms ahead.

Soon we could hear what was distinctly a man's voice, followed by a woman's strained response. The sounds were coming from behind a door at the very end of the hall. We stopped a few feet short, and we listened.

"Oh, God-please, no more-" The woman inside gasped hopelessly. It was definitely Prentiss.

"Just do as the man asks, my dear. Then, this will all be over." Yeah, that was Rossi.

"Let me go! I don't know anything, I'm just a secretary!"

"On the contrary, doll-face. You're Hotchner's right-hand lady, you know a great many things. And, Giuseppe, here, is a master of persuasion, in case you haven't noticed. Why, he's just getting warmed up! Now, before he hits his full stride, why don't you make it easy on yourself and answer my questions?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about..."

"My, but she's a stubborn little minx. Give her another tickle."

I heard what sounded like a buzz of electricity and Prentiss screamed again.

"All right," I whispered to Reid. "We need some backup." I started to head back to the exit, but Reid grabbed my arm.

"No! Listen to her voice-she's close to breaking. She's going to give them what they want."

"So? We'll nick Rossi on kidnapping charges and that'll put a crimp in his rope for a good long time. Let's-"

"Derek." Reid pulled me back and even in the dim light I could see the dark look in his eyes. "Once she's spilled to them, they'll kill her and dump her body in the ocean. We don't have time to wait for back up."

"So, what do you propose we do?"

"Slow them down.

I stared at him for a minute. I could hear more talking, more pleading. Another zap of electricity, another, weaker, scream, and I knew Reid was right.

"All right-but, how?"

"Get out of sight." I backed up into the doorframe of the room next door. Reid went to Rossi's door and knocked, cool and matter-of-fact, like he was the goddamn egg man or something. All the noises in the room quieted down for a minute, then the door swung open, and I saw Gentleman Dave himself standing there.

"Spencer Reid! For goodness sake, my boy, what are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Uh... Oh, gosh. I'm sorry, Mr. Rossi, I, uh... I'm sorry, I didn't see anyone up front, and-" Reid sounded exactly like a dumb sap caught with his pants down.

Rossi smiled. "You've caught me conducting a little bit of business, I'm afraid."

"Oh, well, I'll just go, then... Uh... Sorry-" I could tell he was taking in the landscape. He put his hand on the door frame and held up one finger, letting me know there was just one goon in the room with Rossi and Prentiss.

"Well, I'm afraid it's not that simple." Rossi put one hand behind Reid's head and the other gripped his arm, and he yanked him into the room and closed the door behind them. I moved in again to where I could hear what was going on. I could hear Reid stammer.

"M-Mr. Rossi, please-I don't want any trouble."

"Nor do I, young man, but I'm afraid you've brought it on yourself. We were just attempting to glean some very interesting information from this young lady, but, sadly, she's a bit reluctant. Giuseppe, see if you can persuade her again, please. Perhaps she's finally ready to come out of her shell."

I'd be damned if I was going to let them hurt Prentiss again, plus I didn't like the idea of Reid being in there alone. I pulled my gun and kicked the door open.

_"Nobody move. _You, get away from her."

Prentiss was tied to a chair, her dark hair falling around her haunted face. An ordinary car battery was rigged up next to her, and I could tell by the angry red marks on her neck, arms and chest that they'd been applying the hot ends to her skin and running current through them to shock her. The room smelled like burning flesh. She screamed, probably figuring I was another one of Rossi's men come to get in on the action.

The fellow called Giuseppe stepped back, and I trained the gat on him.

"Hands in the air, asshole, or you'll come down with a bad case of lead poisoning."

Rossi gave me a mild look. "Detective Morgan, please mind your language in front of our lovely guest. I'm sure we can work this out to everyone's satisfaction. Now, put down your gun. I'd hate to have to let a little daylight into your friend, here."

I looked at him and saw that he had Reid around the neck with one arm; the diamond ring on his finger glinted in the morning sun, almost distracting me from the fact that he had a pistol in his other hand, and that it was jammed into Reid's side. I slowly lowered my revolver and his thug came toward me.

"Oh, my goodness!" Reid squeaked. "Mr. Rossi-please! I-I can't breathe. I think I'm going to... faint..." Reid closed his eyes and went limp and Rossi loosened his hold as the kid slumped down. Giuseppe's concentration was broken and I took the opportunity to aim a roundhouse kick at his hand that sent his weapon flying. I turned my gun on Rossi, but was amazed to see that Reid had already managed to grab his arm and twist it so that the pistol dropped to the floor. Rossi gave a surprised grunt of pain, then sank to his knees, as if his legs would no longer support him.

Reid grabbed Rossi's weapon and jammed it into the waistband of his trousers, while at the same time taking out his own gun-I noted it was a Smith & Wesson .44, looked like government issue-and he trained it on the mob boss. I put my eyes back on the mug nursing his hand, and motioned him over to the side while I picked up his gun, then frisked first him, then Rossi. I relieved them both of their other heat, then went to release Prentiss.

"Morgan..." she whispered.

"It's all right, gorgeous. You're gonna be okay."

She nodded, and as soon as she was freed, she unsteadily struggled to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself, shaking.

Rossi chuckled.

"Well, this just gets more and more interesting. So, the little piano player has some tricks up his sleeve. That was very nice, young man, very well-played. What do you call that move?"

"It's an ancient Japanese martial art, known as Jujitsu," Reid said, grimly.

Rossi smirked and nodded in admiration.

Just then, Giuseppe went after me and we had ourselves a little wrestling match. I played him some chin music-and, damn, I'd missed the feel of my knuckles connecting with some crumb-bum's yap-and knocked him for a loop. I took the opportunity and handcuffed him to the radiator, then grabbed the rope he'd used to bind Prentiss and pulled Rossi's hands behind his back, wrapped it around his wrists, then tied it up nice and tight. "All right, gents-we're going to take you down to the station and hand you over to Chief Hotchner."

"Oh, I doubt that," Rossi said airily. "You see-my men had a little piece of work to do this morning, but they're on the way back here right now." He raised an eyebrow at me and his voice was suddenly pure steel. "You won't make it out the door."

"I-" My response was cut short by the bark of somebody throwing lead outside. One-two-three shots rang out; Reid's eyes narrowed.

_"Blast it. _Morgan, keep an eye on Mr. Rossi, please." Reid zipped out the door and I kept my piece trained on the old guy. He gave me a puzzled look.

"What the hell is your boy up to?" he asked.

"I... don't know." I'd been so hopped up on nerves, it hadn't occurred to me to worry about Reid, but now I was scared for him. Where the hell did he think he was going?

Prentiss went to the door, then looked back at me with a worried expression. "He's going to get himself killed," she said, her voice still weak.

"Yeah."

"Go after him," she said. "Give me the gun. I'll take care of Rossi."

I looked at her in surprise. "You think you can handle a piece?"

The strain in her face relaxed, and she laughed a little. "I know how to use a weapon, Detective. Chief Hotchner trained me himself." She held out her hand. "Please, go see after Spencer. Penelope would have my head on a platter if anything were to happen to him."

I looked into her eyes and saw calm confidence, so I handed her Giuseppe's rod, then ran down the hall in the direction Reid had headed off to.

There was a foyer at the end of the hall and Reid was standing at the exit door, holding it a open just a little bit. He was staring out and had his weapon raised. I hustled up to him.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

"Back up's here."

I looked past him and saw two vehicles. Men were crouching behind each of them, and one man was lying on the ground, a little too busy bleeding to pay any attention. Neither car was marked "Police," and I had no way of knowing who was who.

"Put me wise, kid-which ones are the good eggs?" I asked.

Reid gestured with his chin toward the group on the right.

"Who are they?"

"FBI."

My mouth fell open. "FBI? How'd you get the Feds down here?"

Reid grinned without taking his eyes off the action out front. "Let's just say I know some people. See that fellow there? That's Jason Gideon. He heads up the New York office."

_"Shit." _

All of a sudden, one of the mob boys stood up and took aim at the man Reid had just pointed out to me. Reid flung the door open all the way, fired, and the guy screamed and kissed the pavement, his pin shot out from under him. That left just two goons, and they pointed their heat in Reid's and my direction. We had our pieces trained on them, and Reid shouted, "Grab some air, gentlemen! It's over!" They sized up the situation and saw the odds were against them. They reluctantly threw down their weapons, then put their hands up high.

Gideon immediately ran out and began putting cuffs on them, and his men followed and dragged the mobsters into the FBI vehicle. Gideon helped them get the wounded thug into the back of the car; they didn't bother with the one on the ground, so I took it that he'd already kicked.

Then, Gideon strode up to greet us.

"Good shot, Reid. You've been practicing."

Reid grinned. "Thanks, boss. Jason Gideon, this is the man I've been telling you about-Detective Derek Morgan, from Chicago."

"How do you do, Detective?" He shook my hand, and I nodded, a little too caught off-guard to speak for a moment. Then, I looked at Reid.

"Hold on just a minute-do you mean to tell me _you're_ FBI?"

Reid gave a bashful laugh. "Yeah... I'm still pretty green. This was my first undercover assignment."

Gideon clapped a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I knew you had it in you to be a field agent. Now, where's Rossi?"

"Right here," a female voice answered. We turned to see Prentiss nudging Rossi along in front of her, with the gat firmly gripped in her hands. _"Please _take him. I'd like to be done with the bastard before my trigger finger slips and I accidentally plug him."

Gideon smiled. "I can help you with that, miss." He took over handling Rossi, and began leading him outside. He paused at the door.

"Well done, everyone. Reid, I'll talk to you later. Detective, you're an asset to the Chicago force; I like what you've done here, and also for Chief Hotchner. You ought to think about joining the Bureau, we could use a man like you.

"And, Miss Prentiss-I'm so sorry for what you've gone through today. I thank you for your service. Chief Hotchner will be very impressed." He nodded at us, then hustled the mob boss out to the vehicle. By then, two cop cars came roaring up, sirens blaring and lights flashing, along with the coroner's van. They started loading up the stiff, and helping to sort things out. I went to tell them about good old Giuseppe back in the room making out with the radiator, then went over to Prentiss and Reid.

I smiled. "You two are aces, you know that? Miss Prentiss-"

"Call me Emily."

"Emily-we need to get you to a doctor."

"I'm fine."

"No, Emmy," Reid said. "You need to be checked out." He gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Did they... Did anything else happen?" he asked in a low voice. She shook her head firmly, and he nodded in relief. "Okay. Well, I'm going to call Penelope. She's probably casting kittens by now." He turned and went to what served as a reception desk to use the phone. I could hear Penelope's squeal of happiness come through the line from six feet away when he told her that Emily was okay. I looked back at the dark-haired beauty.

"So... You and Penelope, huh?"

She smiled softly. "Yeah. And... You and Spencer, huh?"

I laughed, a little embarrassed. I wasn't used to having my personal life laid out like that for people I barely knew. "Yeah."

"I'd say we're both pretty lucky. In some ways, at least," she added as she ruefully ran a hand over the angry red marks on her neck. Suddenly, she looked me in the eye and I saw the kind of knowing that it hurt to see. "He was going to kill me," she whispered.

I pursed my lips. "Yeah. What was the dope was he after?"

"He wanted to know about you. Why you were here, what you were up to. And, what Hotch had in mind." She shrugged. "I didn't tell him anything. But... I couldn't have held out much longer."

"You did good, Emily. You did real good."

"Thanks."

Reid got off the phone; a couple of officers came up and took our statements, then offered to drive Emily to the hospital, but Reid and I said we'd take her. Reid called Penelope again and arranged to have her meet us there, then he joined us. "I'm ready to get out of here."

"You and me, both," Emily said with a sigh.

I grinned. "All right, let's dust. But, I think you should know, Reid's driving."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You know, there was a time when that would have terrified me. But, after today, stuff like that's just silk." She pulled her collar a little higher and ran her fingers through her hair. "Come on, boys. I want to see my girl."

Reid smiled. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>We found our way back to Reid's old roadster and piled in. We zipped along until we got to the emergency room. Penelope was already there, and she stood up, ran to Emily and threw her arms around her. Emily winced.<p>

Penelope drew back and stared at her, eyes wide. "Oh, honey! What did they do to you?"

"I'm okay, love. I'll... I'll be okay."

Reid and I stepped aside to let them talk. I had a few things I wanted to say to him, anyway.

"So-you're a G-man, huh? I can't believe it."

"Yeah, well..." He shook his head as if he could hardly believe it, himself. "My unprepossessing appearance kind of works in my favor, actually. At least, for undercover work."

"Penelope knows about this?"

"She knows some things, not everything. She knows I work for the FBI, but she thinks I'm just a part-time research assistant." He bit his lip thoughtfully. "I didn't tell her I was going into the field because I wasn't sure I could qualify. But, I did, and my first assignment was to keep an eye on Rossi, which worked out better than expected, thanks to his daughter's upcoming nuptials and the fact that I tinker with the old 88's... Everything just happened so fast, you know? I never had a chance to talk to her." He shrugged. "But, I'll have to tell her, sometime, right?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, you should-" Just then, a thought struck me, and I stared at him. A weird feeling of disappointment niggled in my breast and I couldn't push it away; a question came out of my mouth before I even realized I was speaking. "So, wait a minute-was _I_ part of your assignment, too?"

Reid frowned. "Huh?"

"When you hopped in the sack with me, were you grifting me? Did Gideon send you to keep an eye on me, too? Or, was it Hotch?"

Those beautiful dark eyes clouded up, and suddenly, it felt cold in there, like somebody had turned off the sun. Reid pursed his lips, and shook his head. "No, Derek. I was on my own time. I just... I just liked you, that's all." He gave me a bitter look, then turned away and strode over to the girls. They were both crying. Just then, a nurse came to collect Emily for her exam and Penelope worriedly watched her leave, clutching a handkerchief in her hands.

I went up to Reid and put a hand on his back. "Hey, I'm sorry, man. I didn't-"

Reid shrugged my hand off. "Forget it. Guess a fellow in my line of work ought to get used to people not trusting him." He laughed slightly. "Didn't think that would happen with you, though." He looked me in the eye, but whatever he was thinking was hidden by a blank expression and he suddenly seemed like a stranger. He walked away, went up to Penny and put his arms around her from behind. She was quietly sobbing, and she turned and burrowed into him. I watched him comfort his wife, and suddenly I realized-I was done.

I went outside to flag down a cab.


	8. Vows

**As usual, thank you to Nebula2 for nagging, I mean, nudging me to get back to this! I heart you, Nebs! Thanks to everyone who's been waiting patiently for an update. At least this chapter has a bit of smut! We're nearing the end, but not there, yet... **

**Love to all!**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>I cabbed it up to the station and got with Hotchner. I went over all the events that had taken place at Rossi's warehouse, told him about Reid and Gideon and the FBI, and I noticed that he didn't look all that surprised. But, I could see the relief on his face when I told him Emily was going to be okay, and that Rossi was in custody. When I finished, he shook my hand, and offered me a job.<p>

I declined.

Hotch still wanted help cleaning up his department, so I promised him I'd be in at nine in the morning and that I'd spend the day finishing up the interviews. After that, I'd head straight to Grand Central and train it back to Chi-town-I couldn't bear the thought of being stuck in this berg another minute, not if the little piano player-well, G-man-wasn't going to want to see me anymore.

I was thirsty for rye; I headed back to the hotel and went to the bar for a jorum of skee. I chatted with the barkeep, then looked around. The place was dead quiet, and the few folks that were in there were drinking, not dancing. I stared back at the baby grand and thought about Reid. I remembered the first time I'd seen him there, how he'd looked good enough to eat, and how he'd caressed the notes so sweetly that they'd given him warm kisses in return.

I missed him so bad it hurt.

I knocked back a couple more shots, then went on up to bed, alone.

* * *

><p>The next day was another rough one. Gentleman Dave had put more effort into infiltrating the NYPD than I'd thought, and it was like cleaning out a wasp's nest, asking just the right questions, then cross-referencing and creating files for Hotch to follow up on later.<p>

I worked straight through the day; me and Hotch just had a couple of puny-ass ham sandwiches at his desk for lunch, and I wrapped up the interviews a little after seven. By then I was starved. I didn't like the idea of facing the long train ride back to Chicago with no dinner, plus I still had to go back to the hotel and pack, so I hailed a cab and started thinking about what I could do for grub.

I was tempted to drop in at Miss Penny's hash joint and have myself a burger, maybe see if she had anything to say about Reid and whether or not he was still mad with me. I had the cab stop and let me out in front, but as I peered in and saw her through the window, it occurred to me that talking to her about her husband might end up making both of us feel bad; hell, it made me feel bad, just thinking about it. I lost my appetite and ended up slowly walking back to my hotel and grabbing a hot dog from a cart out front.

As I stood there munching, watching throngs of people hustle by me on their way home, listening to horns honk and brakes squeal, and seeing the crazy New York City skyline light up before my eyes, I felt more alone than I'd ever felt before.

I guessed that being with Reid, even for such a short time, had shown me how alone I'd been all along. I didn't know whether to love him or hate him for that; but, it was too late, now. He had a wife, and I had an empty flat in Chicago.

I finished my dog, then decided to head on up to my room and pack. I went in through the bar; to my surprise, I heard hot dance music coming from the 88's, and I had to make my way through a thick crowd of couples, busy shaking a leg out on the dance floor. I turned my head to where the music was coming from and saw Reid sitting there, his hat tilted at a cocky angle, strands of long brown hair bobbing around his pretty face as his long fingers washed over the ivories like water.

I was so glad to see him, I almost ran, but I forced myself to saunter across the room, real slow and easy-like. He saw me coming, but just raised an eyebrow, and took a drag off of his cigarette. For a minute, I felt my breath catch in my throat. I thought maybe he was going to tell me to fuck off, or, worse, ignore me, but I waited; he exhaled, nice and smooth, then looked up at me and shot me that million-dollar smile, and I started breathing again.

Goddamn, I felt like laughing and crying at the same time.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey, kid." I leaned against the piano, pulled a ciggie out of my pocket and held it up. "Can I trouble you for a light?" I was proud of how smooth and casual I managed to sound, and I wondered if he bought it; I knew he didn't, he had a way of seeing right inside my head, but he was too nice a guy to call me on it. Instead, he chuckled, and said, "You need to ask Santa Claus for a lighter," and then he half-stood and flicked a flame to the butt, and I took a long drag and watched the smoke drift up lazily toward the ceiling fan.

"So-I thought your piano-playing gig was over."

"I told the manager I'd finish up the week like I'd promised. Plus, I was kind of hoping you'd still be around."

I felt a rush of something sweet; maybe it was me being stupid, or maybe by then I was just plain bed-bug crazy, but all of a sudden, I felt like everything was going to be all right.

"Oh, yeah? But, why? I thought you were angry with me."

He shrugged and looked sheepish. "I may have... overreacted a bit. I was being too sensitive or something. I don't know... I'm sorry. Besides, I got to thinking-you'll be leaving town soon. I was hoping maybe we could say a proper goodbye before you went back to Chicago. You know, the kind where we take our pants down." He gave me a naughty wink and stubbed out his smoke. A grin crossed my face.

"Well, I'd like that, pretty boy. I'd like that a lot."

"Good. Midnight?"

"Yeah."

"Let's see, you're in room... Oh, what was it? Two-twelve, I believe?"

"You've got a hell of a memory, kid."

"Nah. I wrote in on my arm. I... didn't want to forget."

Holy hell, was I dizzy for this boy. "Well, I'm damn sure glad of that. I'll see you at midnight."

"Yeah. Midnight. I'm looking forward to it."

I smiled bigger than I've ever smiled before, and headed up to my room, hearing the soft notes of his song follow me up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Punctual as always, Reid showed up right on time. I didn't give him one second to say hello, just pulled him into the room with me and yanked the hat off of his head. I threw it on the bedstead, pushed him into a chair, then got on my knees, pulled him forward and laid about a million kisses on his mouth, his chin, his nose, and the soft velvet of his neck. I was laughing, and he was too, until I unbuttoned his damn trousers. We stared at each other for a moment, then I dropped my head down and began sucking his cock.<p>

I made him gasp, then he moaned and arched, and I cradled his balls in my hand before taking each in my mouth in turn, all the while stroking his shaft. He whimpered, and I knew he was getting a little too close for comfort, so I wrapped his arms around my neck, gripped him under his legs and pulled him with me as I stood up. I carried him over to the bed and lay him down, then I stretched out next to him.

We went back to kissing, then somehow we got quiet and laid there looking into each other's eyes, just happy to hold each other for a while. I ran my hand over his face, trying to memorize the feel of him, the way his cheeks sloped, the curve of his lips, the scratchy bristle of his jaw. I _looked_ at him, determined to put everything, every little line and freckle, into my memory forever, and he seemed to be doing the same. He moved closer, and his soft lips covered mine. I kissed him, slow and easy now, then I dipped in and melted against him. He tasted so damn sweet, I just kept coming back for more.

We got to where we couldn't stand it another minute, and we shucked off our clothes. He wrapped his fingers tight around my cock; I slid my own fingers, slick and dripping with oil, down between his legs and teased his tight little hole, gently easing him open, getting him hot and ready for me. He wriggled and moaned, and bit me the way he knew that I liked, and I growled and pushed him back flat on the bed. It didn't take long before I slid inside him, and he wrapped himself around me, hot skin, slim thighs spread wide for me, hips bucking as I pushed myself in deeper. _God,_ I thought, _never enough. Never enough of this._

We tore up the mattress. We beat the iron bedstead against the wall in a rhythm of sex and need, and we made enough noise with our grunting and groaning to wake up the neighbors, who irritably banged on the other side of the wall with their fists. But, we paid them no mind. We were in our own little world, and all I cared about was making him gasp out my name, making him beg for me, about pounding into him until his cum came spurting out onto his belly in thick pearly strands. He seemed solely intent on making me shoot mine deep within him, on making me fill him up with my heat, leaving me to collapse on top of him, too spent to move or thrust or to speak a single word.

We did those things to each other, and for each other; the fire mounted to an inferno, then it slowed and waned until it was just a soft buzzing warmth beneath our skin. When we were done-when I had the use of my muscles again-I pulled back and looked down at him, both of us panting through parted lips. The lamplight shone on his sweet face, giving the dark curls spread out on the pillow a golden hue, and making his long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He opened his eyes like a cat, and a knowing grin spread across his face. He reached up and caressed me, a feathery tickle that made me shiver.

_"Extraordinary."_ His voice was soft and raspy from sex, and now the thought of getting on that train and never seeing him like this again, never hearing him say that word in just that way again, nearly knocked the wind right out of me.

To my shame, hot tears pricked my eyes and I felt one roll down my cheek to drip onto his chest, and of course Reid laughed at me. He ran his fingers lightly over the wetness, cleared his throat and said, "Some hard-boiled dick you turned out to be. What the hell's the matter with you, you act like this is goodbye forever."

"Come on, kid," I said as I slid off of him. "I've got to go back home. You won't leave your wife. I don't much think we'll be seeing each other after this."

"Why? What's back home?"

"Huh?"

"What's back home that's so compelling?" He rolled onto his side, propped his head up on one hand, and with the other, swiped at the mess on his stomach with a rag. "I happen to know you've had two job offers right here in the Big Apple. So, what's taking you back to Chicago? A wife I don't know about? Kids?"

"No, no, nothing like that. My mom-"

"You're a big boy now, Detective Morgan. I bet your mom can get along without you, hm?"

"Yeah, of course, but-"

"But, what?"

The enormity of what I was about to say nearly choked me. I almost couldn't believe I was saying the words, but they slipped out, one after the other, whether I wanted them to or not.

"You're married, damn it. And, I like Penny. I don't think... I don't think it'd be right of me to..."

"To what?"

"To take up with you, when you're married to someone else."

"My, aren't you the virtuous one. But, it's permissible to have a little romp in the hay with me while you're in town?" His eyes were twinkling and I gave a huff of exasperation. He wasn't following me at all.

"Spencer, there's a difference, all right? Obviously, Penny's got someone else, too, but married is married, you know what I mean? I can't ignore that, I'm sorry."

"Well, okay. But you can come visit me here, and I can-"

"No, Spence. No. I can't do that." I sat up and looked him in the eye, the realization backing up bile in my throat. "Don't you see? _I can't go through this again._ Leaving you is going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's breaking my heart right now, this minute. You really think I can... see you? Hold you? Be with you another time, only to say goodbye again? No, man. I'm not strong enough. It'd kill me. Where you're concerned, there's no half-way. I need you, but it's all or nothing, understand? I can't share you with another person."

"Derek, that's ridiculous! I care about Penelope, of course. I mean-I love her, but-"

"Are you ready to leave her? To divorce her?"

He looked shocked. He was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. "It's not that simple. I-"

"Yes, it is. The two of you made a vow to each other. As long as that's intact, I won't ask you to give her up. But, I won't-I can't-settle for anything less. I'm sorry." I shrugged, having run out of words. "That's just the way it is."

Reid pulled at his lip, then looked back at me. "So, this is it? This is the last time we'll ever be together? _Ever?"_

"I... I guess so. I hate it, but-I won't be the kind of man who comes between two people and their vows."

"You don't understand. Penelope and I, we're good with the way things have been, we-"

"Maybe you two are, but I'm not. I thought I was, but... I'm not. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but-damn it, Reid, I want your _heart._ And, I don't ever want you leaving my bed because there's someone else waiting for you at home." I reached over and picked up his hand with the simple gold band on it. "Every time you touch me, I see this, and I think about what it means. I won't ask you how come you don't, I'm not passing judgment on you. I just know what's right for me. And, I'm sorry-my God, I'm sorry. But, yeah... That's how it is." I pressed the palm of his hand to my lips. "If the day ever comes when you and Penny decide it's over between you-you let me know. I'll come running. But, until that day..."

I left it at that. There wasn't anything else to say.

Reid lay back against the pillow. He scrunched his eyes closed as if in pain, and I saw his chest heave. After a moment, he pulled his hand away from me, stood up, and began to dress. I watched him, watched his clothes go on, watched him pick up his hat. He laughed slightly and spoke briskly, as if he were choking back tears.

"You're a good man, Derek Morgan. The best. I wish... I wish things were different. But, I can't leave my wife, so... I guess that's it. If you ever decide you'd like to be a little less principled, and a little more despicable-I'm your man. Call me, any time." He smiled ruefully, and then his voice grew gentle. "Just call. I'll come running."

He leaned down, put one hand on the side of my face and kissed me, long and slow. He looked into my soul one last time.

Then, he tipped his hat, turned, and was gone.


	9. Postmark: The Big Apple

**A/N: Oh, boy, all the usual excuses apply—I'm sorry this took so long to update! Hope some of you darlings are still interested. Here we go...**

* * *

><p><em>6 weeks later...<em>

It was late evening. I sat in my sorry old Chi-town apartment, staring at the ceiling. I took a drag on my cig and watched the smoke dance and swirl before wafting up above my head. My hard-working electric fan whirred away, offering a small bit of relief from the heat; it was still punishing even after sundown. I was tempted to go sit out on the stoop, figuring it was probably cooler out there than in my stuffy damn living room, but half the building was out there, yakking and drinking beer, and I was in no mood for company.

I missed Spencer so bad, it gave me a gut-ache.

* * *

><p>I'd hated myself ever since I got back from New York. Every night when I walked through my front door, I thought of him. Even at work, when things got crazy, I'd think of him. I'd think of what it would be like to come home to him, to tell him everything that'd happened, to make him laugh, or to make his eyes widen when he heard how death had come striding around again and cheer when he heard how I'd managed once again to give it the slip.<p>

I wondered what he was facing. Now that he was a G-man out in the field, I'd bet he was seeing some shit. I wondered if Hotch or Gideon would let me know if anything ever happened to him.

I hoped that one of them would.

* * *

><p>Work kept me busy enough, I guess. I was in the middle of one big case, and had a couple of others on the back-burner, so I had plenty to occupy my mind, but off the clock? I couldn't concentrate. Most nights, I'd take a swig or two of rum, put on the radio and conk out on my couch. I'd dream of Spencer, all big eyes and sunshine smile, the way he'd looked while taking off his clothes, the way he used to wait for me, wanting me... Then, I'd wake up and the emptiness would send me off into the night, looking for something, anything, to get my mind off my troubles.<p>

More times than I could count, my hand would be on the phone, itching to call him and tell him I'd made a foolish mistake, that I didn't care about his marriage after all, that I had to have him in my life, half-way, part-way, any kind of way—it didn't matter, I just couldn't go on like this without him.

But then I'd go on into the station, and I'd get wrapped up in whatever was going on, and I'd tell myself—I'd done the right thing. I figured I'd get over him, that I'd meet somebody else, someone with no ties, and I'd start over.

But the weeks passed, and none of that happened.

And some nights, like tonight, even the booze didn't give me any rest.

I had to get out of there. I got up and went to hunt for my keys, and found them under the day's mail. I barely looked at it most days, I'd gotten kind of neglectful in my bill-paying and it wouldn't have surprised me to find a nasty letter from Ma Bell or something, but instead I found an envelope with a New York postmark. I frowned, took a steak knife and sliced it open.

Damned if it wasn't a letter informing me that I had to appear at Gentleman Dave Rossi's criminal trial back in the goddamn Big Apple. Great, I thought. Just what I needed—a trip back to the town where my heart got broken into about a million billion pieces.

But, the next day I made arrangements to travel.

* * *

><p>The trial was a damn circus. Rossi wore his best pin-striped suit and a thick gold chain, and he had a high-toned mob lawyer talking circles around the truth. But between me, Reid, and Emily Prentiss, the judge saw it our way.<p>

Gentleman Dave was going to be wearing a striped suit all right, but the stripes would be going in the other direction.

On the last day after the sentencing, after everything was said and done and everyone was dismissed, people began filing out of the courtroom. Seeing Reid on the stand or across the room or, once, seated right in front of me in the gallery—close enough I could have touched him, could have laid my hand on his shoulder—I'd had to force myself to act tough and pretend like he wasn't there.

But part of me felt electric, like a live wire spewing sparks, and I wondered if he, maybe, felt the same way.

Not that it mattered.

I put on my hat, threw my jacket over my shoulder and headed out of the courtroom; as I made my way down the hall, I saw Reid slouching against a wall, hat pushed back, cigarette in hand. He was watching the crowd, and when he saw me, he stepped forward, and it kind of jolted me to realize he'd been waiting for me. He came over smiling, shy and apologetic. I smiled back.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey. I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but—"

I shrugged. No, I didn't want to talk. I wanted to shove him up against that wall and bury my face in his neck and just inhale him, but instead, I said, "No, it's okay. It's... good to see you. How you doing?"

He laughed a little. "I'm all right. Yourself?"

I laughed too. "So-so. I've been better. At least we got Rossi where he belongs."

"Yeah. It's good."

We stood there, awkward and unsure, then he said, "I was hoping we could get some coffee. You have time?"

"Um... Yeah. I don't leave until morning."

"Good. Come on, there's a little shop down the street."

I followed him out of the building, trying not to think as I watched his long legs make short work of the block. We went into the coffee shop and got a table. A waitress took our order, and then we just sat across from each other like ghosts, neither of us saying anything.

Reid broke the silence by clearing his throat. Then he said, "Well—I have some news."

For a second, my blood pulsed quicker, and I let myself imagine him saying that he and Penny had decided to call it quits, but I just said, "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

He fiddled with a napkin, then looked me square in the eye. "I, uh... I'm going to be a daddy." Then he smiled, his eyes crinkling the way they did when he was happy, and I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. I managed to collect myself, and said, "Well, hell. That's wonderful, pretty boy. So, you and Penny—"

"Yeah. Um... We've been trying for a while. I guess it finally took, sometime before... before I met you." He looked abashed and seemed grateful when the waitress brought our java to us. He quickly picked up his cup and blew on the steaming brew, and he wouldn't look at me anymore. I shifted in my chair and reached for the sugar. There wasn't coffee strong enough in the world to make this easy to take, but I tried to sound pleased for him.

"Well. It's a good thing we didn't... I mean, I didn't know you were—"

"It's not like you think," he said softly. "Penelope's with Emmy now. They live together." He bit his lip. "See, Penelope and I... we met in high school. We were in the same class. I was a skinny little guy, younger than the others because they put me ahead a couple of grades. One day, she came along when these bastards, pardon my French, were picking on me, and she broke it up." He grinned at the memory. "We got to be best friends after that. She was sixteen, I was fourteen."

He paused, and I waited, not sure where he was going with his recollections. Then, he swallowed down a sip of coffee and said, "She got into trouble senior year." He gave me a look that told me what kind of trouble. "Her boyfriend refused to marry her. She was beside herself—her family was strict Catholic, and they... They threw her out. Well, I wanted to move to New York anyway for college, and it was kind of daunting, going by myself, so I asked her to go with me. She didn't have anywhere else to go, so she said yes." He smiled slightly, and I could see his mind was in a different time and place.

Damned if I knew what to say to that. I just asked, "So—there's a kid?"

Reid's expression darkened. "No. One night, she was walking home from work. She stepped out into the street and got hit by a car. She only suffered some broken ribs, but... she lost the baby." Reid ran his fingers through his hair, shoving it away from his face. "It was awful. I didn't think she'd ever get over it. But, in time, she got better." He took his cup and spooned in more sugar. "By then, we both knew I wasn't... boyfriend material, so to speak. And, she'd started seeing a young lady at work. But, we were good together. We loved each other, even if it wasn't a romantic kind of love. And, Penelope still wanted to be a mother."

He looked me in the eye. "So, I made her a promise. I told her that if she wanted to, we could make a baby together, and I'd help her take care of it. She said okay, but that she didn't want her child to grow up in shame. So, we got married. And, we tried, but nothing happened. Then, later, she met Emily. We talked about going our separate ways, but... she still wanted a baby. So, we kept trying, off and on. I was beginning to think it wasn't possible, but..." He laughed slightly. "Just when you least expect it, life brings you little surprises. I found out the day before you left town."

He dropped his head and shrugged. "When I met you, I began to think—I mean, I really thought maybe it was time for Penelope and I to give up the pretense of our marriage. I swear, Morgan, I was ready to leave town and go back to Chicago with you. But, once I learned about the baby, well—there was no way I could leave her and my child, no way I'd divorce her, knowing what it meant to her. And, I knew you didn't want me under those terms." He sighed so deep it hurt to see it. "So, that's how it is. I don't have a wife, my child will grow up in a different household than mine, and I don't have you, either.

"But, I made a promise. A vow. And, I will keep it." His voice became a little choked, but he closed his eyes for a moment, then added, "I just wish you could live with that."

We were both quiet for a long time. Then I said, "Damn. Why didn't you tell me?"

Reid shrugged. "I wanted to. I meant to call you. I guess I just couldn't stand the thought of hearing your voice while knowing that... I wouldn't ever see you again." He idly swirled his coffee around in the cup, then drank it down. "Well, anyway—that's the story. Listen, I need to go. This trial has me behind in my work." He reached for his hat and coat. "Want to share a cab? I rode with Em to the courthouse."

"Sure." I felt numb. I finished my cup and we stood up, walked outside and hailed a taxi. We gave Reid's address.

Just as we arrived at his brownstone apartment building, Emily Prentiss pulled up behind us.

She hopped out of her beat-up old Ford and came running up to Reid. Her face was pale and she looked wild.

"Spencer—it's Penny," she said, grasping his arm. "I think there's something wrong with the baby. You have to come to the hospital right away."

"My God." Reid gave me a desperate look and we didn't have to talk-I followed him into Prentiss' car without a word.


	10. What Penelope Said

**A/N: Woo-hoo, well, I'm not only updating within a week, but bringing you what will probably be the next to last chapter of this fic. It's a long one! Hope you enjoy.**

**And, shameless self-promotion time—three of my stories (including this one!) been nominated for four CCoAC Profiler's Choice Awards! To vote, go to the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum and take a gander at the rules, then fill out the form! Easy-peasy. **

**Okay, back to the story...**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>I got into the back of Prentiss' car and Reid slid in beside her. She burned rubber and got us on the road in a matter of seconds, leaving the line of slow-ass drivers behind us to uselessly lay on their horns and cuss at our receding bumper.<p>

Once we were past the worst of it, Reid turned to Prentiss and said, "Tell me what happened."

Prentiss shook her head slightly and shrugged. "I'm not sure. The trial's been hard on Pen, you know that. This morning she complained that her stomach hurt, and I thought it was just nerves. But after we left the courthouse, she told me she'd started bleeding. She was beginning to panic, so I drove her straight to the hospital. They admitted her right away... but, after they took her back, they wouldn't let me see her. Only her husband or family member can be with her, they said." Prentiss glanced at Reid. "The nurse came out and told me she was asking for you. But she wouldn't give me any information about Pen's condition." She turned back to watching the road as she navigated through heavy traffic.

"I'm sorry," Reid said in a low voice. "I'm sorry you couldn't be with her."

"I just hope she's all right. My father was a doctor. He used to talk about women who'd start bleeding in childbirth, and—"

"Don't." Reid leaned his head back. "I'm sure she's fine. The baby, too. They'll take care of her at the hospital, everything'll be all right."

"Yeah..."

After that, no one spoke until we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Reid jumped out and ran to the emergency entrance; Prentiss followed, striding as quickly as she could in her high heels, which was pretty damn fast because I had to take it at a smart clip to keep up with her.

We got to the waiting room just in time to see Reid being escorted through a set of double doors by a nurse. I took a seat and watched Prentiss peer through the windows after him. She sighed and then came to sit next to me.

"This is killing me."

"I know." I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but I squeezed her hand. She suddenly looked at me like she'd just remembered I was there; she gave me a weak smile.

"She wants this baby so much."

"She's going to be a good mom."

She hmph'd. _"If_ the baby makes it."

"He will." I looked at the expression on her face—half scornful, half teary-eyed—and added, "Don't be such a sad sack. Everything'll be all right, you just wait and see."

I got a sharp tone and a sneer for my trouble. "You believe in the Easter Bunny, too?" Prentiss wrapped her arms around herself and stared toward the emergency room doors. After a minute, she glanced back at me. "Hey—I'm sorry, you're just trying to be nice."

"Don't worry about it. I know this is scary."

She nodded. "I imagine it's hard on you, too."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Seeing Reid again. Pen told me some stuff about why you went back to Chicago when you really wanted to stay here. With him, I mean."

I looked down at my hands, choosing my words. "He's doing the right thing, staying here for Penny and the baby. I honor that. But, I have to do what I think is right, too. And, yeah. It's hard."

Prentiss sighed. "I feel like the bad guy in all this."

"How so?"

"If I hadn't come along, Spence and Penny would be looking forward to raising a family together. Instead, they're split apart. But, when they have a kid... They'll always have obligations to each other."

I thought that over, analyzing the wistfulness in her voice. Finally I said, "You're about to be a parent, too. You _do_ want this baby, don't you?"

She shrugged slightly. "Of course."

"You're not convincing me."

She gave me a grim look and I could tell she was sizing me up, deciding what to say to a fellow who was little more than a casual acquaintance of hers. Finally, she relaxed. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to be a mom, to be honest. And... I guess I was hoping that Pen and I could start a life together without her being so tied to Spencer. I mean, he's a sweetheart, and I know they'll always be close, but with a child... She'll never really be mine, you know? Not completely." She drew in a long breath and gazed toward the double doors. "I guess that's terrible, isn't it? I guess I should have done what you did, step back and let them be together. But I couldn't." She gave me a shame-faced glance. "I'm not a good enough person. I'm just not strong enough."

I felt a little jolt of surprise—it hadn't occurred to me that she'd been standing in the exact same spot as me all along. I shook my head. "I'm not judging you, Emily. I—"

Just then, Reid came out and strode toward us, a smile of relief on his face.

"The baby's fine. And Penelope's going to be okay. The doctor said she's been under too much tension because of the trial and that she needs bed rest for a few weeks. In fact, she'll have to take it easy for the rest of the pregnancy, but everything should be all right." He sank into the chair on the other side of me and wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

"What about the bleeding?" Prentiss asked worriedly.

"It was just a bit of spotting. The doctor said that's not unusual." He heaved a big sigh, blowing air between his lips that sent a stand of his long hair flying. He gestured toward the door. "She wants to see you, Em. They said you could go on back."

Prentiss was on her way in nothing flat. I turned to look at Reid—he seemed to have dissolved into the chair, all gangly arms and legs sticking up as if his muscles had called it quits. I gave him a little shot on the arm. "Hey, that's good news, man. I'm happy for you."

He grinned. "Emily's going to have her hands full, trying to keep Penelope still for the next few months. She'll have to tie her down."

"Yeah. Miss Penny's a live wire all right." I leaned back again, wondering what to do now that the heat was off. I wanted to stay, but I knew it wasn't my place to hang around. Still, Reid began to chat aimlessly, reeling off some information about hospitals and maternity wards and how likely the chances were whether the kid would turn out to be a boy or a girl, and I got the feeling he didn't want me to leave. So I just got as comfortable as possible in the stiff hospital chair and let him talk. It seemed to help him.

After a while, Prentiss came back. She had the same relieved expression on her face that Reid had been sporting earlier and she pointed at me. "She's asking for the healing presence of the magnificent bronze Adonis," she said, amused. "I'm guessing that would be you."

Reid and I both laughed.

"I think you're right." I stood up and went to the door, where a nurse met me and led me to the room where Penelope was recovering. I walked in and said, "Hey, pretty lady. I hear you got a little too worked up over my handsome kisser and had to lie down for a while!" I went to sit by her bed; she had her blonde hair tied up in pigtails and her makeup needed freshening, but she looked beautiful just the same. Her swollen tummy made a little round mound under the sheet.

"You know it, slugger. Just one look at you and I feel like a million bucks." She smiled and held out her hand. "How are you?"

"Me? Who the hell cares about me, this is all about you and that little tadpole in there."

"It certainly is, but the queen bee cares for her subjects." Her teasing tone quieted and she squeezed my hand. "Must be rough, seeing Spencey again, huh?"

"That little squirt? Aw, hell no, I'd forgotten all about him 'til I saw him at the trial."

She smiled gently. "You're a lousy liar."

I really didn't want to talk about my broken heart. "Listen, I'm happy for you, and I'm happy for Reid. You'll be great parents. That's all there is to it, okay? Now, you just need to lie back and relax, and tell me what kind of names you got picked out."

I was fiddling with the edge of her blanket so I wouldn't have to look her in the face, but I could feel her eyes locked on me. "Derek? Look at me, please."

I made myself do as she asked. "What?"

"I never meant for you two to be apart."

"He's your husband."

"Yes. I wanted that because I want my baby to have his name. But, sweetie, he's more than that." She shifted in her bed and cupped my chin. "He's my friend. Nothing's going to change that, ever. Not my girlfriend, not his boyfriend, not even this little critter growing in my tummy. So, quit being so goddamn noble and go claim what's yours."

I felt my throat tightening up and shook my head. "He's not mine."

"Oh, the hell he's not. I could see he belonged to you the first time he told me he met you. Why'd you have to go and screw it up?"

"Penelope, I—"

"Oh, my God, you don't understand do you? Let me see if I can explain. Why do you think I moved in with Emily?"

I frowned, taken aback by the question. "Because you love her?"

"Yes, absolutely, but it wasn't just that. I left because I wanted Spence to be free. I wanted him to go to Chicago, to make you come back and be with him. If we hadn't found out about the baby when we did, I think he would have gone, too." She patted my cheek. "He just got confused. You need to go straighten him out. Will you do that?"

"I—" Damned if I wasn't choking up to where I couldn't speak.

"Do it. If not for yourself, if not for him, do it for me."

"You?"

"Yeah! Who's going to make me feel like a Hollywood movie star after I've had this baby if you go away again?"

I pulled myself together and laughed. "Baby girl, you are one in a million. But, I can't. I can't come between a man and his wife—"

"You're not coming between us. You'll be doing me a favor."

"A favor?"

"Of course. I love Emily and I want to be with her the rest of my life. But I want Spencer to be happy, too. I can't enjoy my good fortune if he's alone and miserable. So, get off your gorgeous butt and go home to him. He needs you." She took my hand. "He loves you—and you love him. Surely you know that."

I closed my eyes as I nodded. "Yeah. I do know that." When I looked back at her, she was beaming triumphantly.

"Then it's settled! You'll come up here to be a G-man for Gideon or one of Hotch's undercover dicks or whatever, and I can quit worrying about everything but having this baby! Right?" she prompted.

I stared at her for a moment. "I don't know, honey. I have to think about it some more."

She shot me an ominous scowl. "Well, okay. But don't take too long. I may be knocked up, but I can still throw a coffee cup like Babe Ruth throws a baseball."

"Uh—he's a batter."

"Oh. Well, still—I can hurt you!" She made a fist and narrowed her eyes at me, and I laughed and kissed her on the top of her head as I rose to leave.

I strode down the hall, turning things over in my mind and trying to decide what I wanted to say to Reid.

But when I went back to the waiting room, he was gone.

* * *

><p>I hoped that maybe he'd headed off to the hospital cafeteria or was waiting for me down the hall, but I knew better. I went outside and looked around, but of course he wasn't there.<p>

I began walking.

I'm not the kind of fellow who spends a lot of time weighing things out—mostly, I know what I want, I know how to get it, and that's it, case closed, that's all she wrote. Once it's done, you can't change my mind.

But then I met Spencer Reid. And his damn sweet little devious wife.

Now I was about as confused as a chicken in a pillow factory. Night was coming on, people were coming home from work, delicious smells from open windows wafted through the air, and I just kept walking, not even thinking about where I was going. It took me a few blocks to realize I was headed to Reid's apartment; I could have hailed a cab, but I needed the time.

Once I finally got there, I'd worked it out. I knew what I had to say to him. I halfway ran up the stairs, found his door and knocked, and after a moment I heard him call, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Spence. Derek."

It took him a while. Finally, the door swung open, and he stood there holding a glass of brandy and a cigarette in one hand. He needed a shave; he was in his undershirt, and his suspenders were hanging limply off his shoulders like they'd been melted by heat and sorrow. He had a steely look in his eyes and he parked himself in the doorway, letting me know there was no way I was going to get past him and into his home without some fancy footwork.

"What do you want, Morgan?" he asked tiredly.

"Hey—may I come in?"

"I'd rather not. I'm busy."

"Uh-huh, I can see that. Come on, man. I looked for you back at the hospital but you'd already run off."

"Yeah, well, I really didn't want to have to say goodbye to you again."

He was looking at me steadily and I held his gaze. "I know. But, I didn't come here to say goodbye."

His eyebrows shot up and he gave me an incredulous look. "Hm. Now that's an interesting statement. Perhaps you should come in after all." He stepped aside and gestured at a bottle sitting on a side table. "May I offer you a little liquid hospitality?"

"Sure." I looked around; I'd never been in his apartment before. It was an old brownstone with battered furniture and dull beige walls, but I could detect feminine touches—cheerful curtains on the windows, a lace doily under a lamp, a hand-knitted throw on the couch. I could also see that it had been a while since the female in question had been in residence, judging by the coating of dust on the table and piles of books, and by the stack of dishes I spotted aging in the kitchen sink.

Reid filled a glass and handed it to me, and I settled into an overstuffed armchair across from his. He took what I was guessing was not the first sip of the night, and then fixed a hard stare on me.

"You know, I never took you for a cruel man."

"Excuse me?"

"It would've been kinder for you to head straight out of town once you knew Penelope was going to be okay than to stop in on me like this."

"I'm not being cruel—I need to talk to you about something."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I love you."

Reid paused with his glass in mid-air, then he gave a derisive snort. "Odd thing to say." He went ahead and took another sip, and I took a long breath before responding.

"Odd?"

"Yes. I wouldn't expect a declaration of love from someone who hasn't so much as sent me a post card or made a phone call in the last several weeks."

"Reid, listen. I couldn't. I couldn't. My God, it... It hurt so much to stay away, but if I'd have heard your voice? It would have killed me."

"No one said you had to stay away," Reid said quietly.

"Your vows said it. _I_ said it. But..." I threw back a slug of my drink and let the burn slide down my throat. Once it had eased into a warm throbbing, I said, "But I was wrong about something."

Reid laughed.

"Good lord, this is getting more and more intriguing. Here, have another shot." He poured me another, and then he asked, "All right, I'll bite. What were you wrong about?"

"Penny."

"Penny? What do you mean?" He got a refill for himself, then leaned back in his chair and gave me a bewildered look. I stared up at the ceiling and pursed my lips, taking a moment to compose my thoughts. The brandy gave me a hand with that, and I found myself speaking without any effort at all.

"I'm selfish. I wanted you all to myself. You having a wife kind of threw some water on that idea. But there was something else. Penny—I thought she was delicate, even weak. I thought she counted on you for her strength; I thought that coming between the two of you would hurt her. I wouldn't want to do that to anyone, much less someone with her sweet soul. But today, I found out I was wrong." I shook my head, still amazed by the lady. "She's got iron balls, that one."

Reid chuckled. "You're telling me? But what did she say to convince you of that?"

"You know why she moved in with Emily?"

"Of course. Emily's the one needing strength; she never got over being kidnapped and tortured. Penelope wanted to take care of her."

"That what she told you?"

"More or less. I may have inferred a bit of it, but—what?"

I was shaking my head. "No, man. She left you so you'd be free to be with me."

Reid frowned. "That's ridiculous. She knew I'd never run out on her when she was expecting."

"No, but she figured she'd be able to convince you to get in touch with me and that we'd manage to work things out. But, the trial came up and everyone got distracted and... Well, trust me, kid. Now I understand—Penelope's going to be just fine."

He looked thoughtful as he swirled the honey-colored liquid in his glass. His lips twisted into a cynical grin. "And what about having me to yourself? How long could you stand it, knowing I'd have to take off in the middle of the night to be with her when the baby comes, or if she were to get sick?"

"I'll take what you can give—and it'll be enough."

"So, what are you saying?" he asked quietly.

"I think maybe Gideon might still be interested in having me join his unit. If not, Hotch told me he's got a job for me anytime I want. I thought maybe I'd check in with them. I'll flop at the Y for a few days, see about finding a place downtown in case something pans out."

"You'd move here?"

"Yeah."

"To be with me?"

I nodded. "If you'll have me."

"You know I won't divorce her."

"I know."

"And you're in agreement with that? With me being a married man?"

"Yes." I grinned. "I told you, Penny says it's all jake. What more do I need?"

Reid laughed a little; then he dropped his gaze to the floor. The lamp cast a shadow on his face, making it hard to read his expression. But when he looked up, he was smiling.

I felt like the hand that had been squeezing my heart for so long had finally eased up. I smiled too; at last I could breathe.

"I need you to forgive me, pretty boy. What do you say?" I stood up and held my hands out to him. He stared up at me for a long moment. At last, he put his drink down and his hands in mind. I tugged and he stood up, and we looked into each other's eyes.

"Damn it, Derek, there's nothing to forgive. You were just doing what you thought was right. But..."

"But what?"

"I want to be sure you understand—I'm going to be a father. Penny and I are going to share the rearing of our child. You realize what that means, right? Dirty diapers, crying, a toddler running around and getting into everything. No sleep, no privacy—"

"I want that. I want all of that, as long as it's with you."

"I can't put you first."

"I wouldn't expect you to." I pulled him close to me. "You remember what I said, oh, about five minutes ago?"

A deep grin crossed his face. "You said you loved me."

"Yeah. I love you. I'll take you any way I can get you—if you feel the same for me."

He pursed his lips and nodded.

I gave him a disapproving look. "You going to say it out loud, or do I have to use my imagination?"

"I-I love you." It came out as a whisper, as if he were afraid to say it.

"I'm sorry, must be losing my hearing. What was that again?"

"I said I love you!"

"Oh, yeah? One more time?"

"Derek—I love you, damn it. I love you."

Then I kissed him.


	11. The Piano Player, Epilogue

**A/N: Well, hello my lovelies, I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! **

**So, here we are at the conclusion of this story. I hope it won't disappoint; I always feel sad ending a story that I loved writing, but at least I can start a new one without feeling guilty! **

**Thank you to all who have stayed with me, and thanks to everyone reading. I deeply appreciate the reviews and thank you so much for the kind words and support. Until next time!**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning with Reid in my arms.<p>

We'd stayed up late into the night talking and drinking, and somewhere along the way he'd stood up, wobbled a bit, and gestured toward his bedroom. He'd put an arm around me for support and we'd made our way there, then stripped down to our skivvies and fallen into the covers. I seemed to remember him giving me a sloppy goodnight kiss before passing out, and I guess I must have done the same. Now it was almost eight AM and the sun was persistently stabbing at my eyeballs; I reluctantly came to consciousness, aware of Reid's warm bony self pressed up against me.

I hugged him to me as I yawned and stretched.

"Hey, pretty boy," I murmured into his hair. "Good morning." He stirred and groaned, then shifted away from me, and I didn't like the cold air that suddenly came between us.

"Morning," he mumbled, digging his fingers into his eyes. He then shot me a hazy glance. "Hold on... How'd you end up in my bed?"

"Uh... You invited me. I think." The night before was a little fuzzy, at least the part after Reid said he loved me. Must have been for him, too, as he lifted the covers and checked that his underwear was still on. It was, and I was glad for that. I'd have hated for us to have indulged in some good old mattress-pounding shenanigans when I was too drunk to enjoy it. It had been so long since I'd felt his naked body under me, I'd want to recall every second of a thing like that.

"Oh, yeah. I... I think I remember that." A sleepy grin crossed his face. "I thought it was a dream."

"Nah. It was after you got all mushy and declared your love for me."

Reid laughed, then moaned. "Ow. Don't make me laugh, I've got a killer hangover. Anyway, I'd like to point out that you said it first."

I shook my head. "Doesn't sound like me. I'm an asshole, remember?"

"True. It's a grave character flaw, but..." He leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes, smirking a little. "I guess I don't mind too much. As long as you meant what you said. About loving me, I mean."

"I meant it." I swooped in fast and kissed him and he laughed again. I started gobbling at his neck and Adam's apple, which made him yelp and weakly push me away.

"Hey, cut it out, I'm a bit delicate this morning. And I need coffee."

I pulled back and looked at him, disheveled, dark circles under his eyes, desperately in need of a shave... beautiful. I'd have given him anything he wanted, the blood from my body, the sun, the moon, the stars. Putting on a pot of coffee seemed like a little enough request—he already had my heart.

"I'll go make some." I started to get up, then I turned and said, "I really did mean it, kid. I love you."

His hangover grimace faded, and he smiled crookedly. "I love you too, Derek."

I squeezed his hand, then went to see if I could search out coffee-making necessities in his topsy-turvy kitchen.

* * *

><p>After coffee and a bowl of corn flakes, we both felt better. Reid had the day off, and I didn't have anywhere I had to be, although I made a couple of phone calls and got appointments to talk with both Gideon and Hotch about a job. Reid checked on Penny and we were relieved to hear that the baby was apparently still happy to stay put inside her, and that she was in good spirits and would soon be sent home to Emily.<p>

So, we spent the day in the cocoon of his apartment, not talking much, but still getting to know each other a little better just by being in the same room together. As afternoon came on, the sun landed on the living room couch where he was sitting, and it made the gold in his hair shine out among the soft brown strands, and I couldn't help but go to sit beside him so I could twist my fingers in it, run them through the tangled curls, pulling his face closer to mine for a kiss.

"I missed you," I said.

That must have hit a nerve with him because he gave me a sneer. "Are you asking for sympathy? Well, all I can say is that I wasn't the one who left—I was here all along."

That knocked me off my pegs a little. I blinked, then said, "Aw, come on, man. I thought you forgave me."

"I never said that, exactly... Here in the sober light of day, I'm feeling somewhat aggravated about it all over again, to tell you the truth."

I held his face in my hands and looked into his eyes. He had that look of deviltry, the one that let me know I needed to jump through some hoops pretty damn quick or I'd regret it.

"Listen, if you can't forgive me, maybe I can persuade you to forget." I stood up, grabbed his hands and tugged; he rose and let me lead him to the bedroom. He stood there with his hands on his hips, regarding me with a skeptical look.

"I don't know, you know what a good memory I have. Forgetting doesn't come so easily."

"Well then, maybe I can give you something else to think about."

He stared at me for a moment, then said softly. "Maybe. What have you got?"

I moved him over to the side of the bed. I opened up his trousers, pulled them and his underwear down and had him sit. I knelt in front of him, took his pretty cock in my mouth and proceeded to blow the hell out of him. He groaned, ran a hand over my head, traced it down the side of my face, fingers caressing me like a blind man reading Braille. Before long he was bucking into my mouth, pushing further down my throat, but every time I felt him getting close I pulled back—I wouldn't let him come.

He grunted in frustration, and I heard him hiss, "Goddamn it, Morgan—this isn't the way to get back into my good graces." I chuckled, and said, "Just you wait, pretty boy. You're going to be real happy with me before too long. Now, what do you have around here that we can use for lube?"

He gestured at the nightstand and I found something that would work. I stripped down, greased up my dick, and used my fingers to stroke him open, to press in, quickly getting him ready for me, or so I thought. He lay back and I gripped his legs higher as I plunged in hard. He was warm and tight, his little rosebud hole giving in to me as I pushed past his resistance. But he whimpered a little, and I frowned.

"Spence? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. I just... I haven't done this for a while. It's okay, don't stop." He smiled encouragingly at me, but I did stop and pulled out.

"Did I hurt you? God, baby, I—that's the last thing I wanted to do, I—"

"No, I'm fine, it was just a little moment of surprise. You're built like a blasted horse, you know, and a fellow gets out of practice." He had a rueful twist to his lips. "I mean—I haven't been with anyone else, you know?"

That kind of made my heart soar. I'd never let myself dwell on the thought of him with another man—I couldn't, it'd have rotted away what was left of my soul. But I never expected him to stand around waiting for me to come back. Now, hearing him say that, I realized he probably wasn't waiting at all, just didn't have the heart to go after someone else, but it made me feel good all the same.

"So, I ruined you for other men, eh?" I said lightly.

He fixed me with a hard look. "When you came along, I got a glimpse of what I'd been waiting for all my life. Afterwards... I really didn't see the point of settling for something less. So, yes, in a way, you ruined me." His voice dropped low. "More than you can imagine."

I felt my throat catch and I hugged him.

"Shit—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I—"

"It's all right. Honestly, Derek, it's all right. I really did understand why you left, you don't have to keep apologizing to me. It's just that understanding didn't make losing you hurt any less. I guess I'm still a little angry... about the circumstances." He brushed his hair away from his brow, and for a moment we were both silent. Then, the teasing look came into his eyes again. "Well, enough of that. Come on—let's get back to you making me forget a few things."

I didn't need to be told twice. I scrambled to the other side of the bed and pulled him along with me. I kissed him and kissed him, sucking at his tongue, his full lower lip, rolling my tongue inside his mouth and feeling him come back at me with his own. I nipped at his neck and shoulder, I lapped at his nipples, I made him moan and shiver. I held him so close, so carefully. This time when I pushed into him, I went slow and easy. I watched his eyes, and the second his brow drew up in what might have been pain, I stopped and waited before starting again.

He didn't say anything, but he looked like he appreciated it.

The thing was, in the dim light, he looked so young, so vulnerable—it was hard to remember he was an agent for the Feds, comfortable with a gun in his hand. To me, he just looked like a kid who'd pulled down his drawers for someone for the first time, and I began to feel like a selfish bastard for hurting him.

That got me to wondering what his first time had been like, how old he'd been, and who it had been with. I hoped whoever it was had taken their time with him, had made him feel good, treasured, the way I wanted to make him feel. And I was still selfish enough to hope, to really, really hope, that I would be the only one who'd ever get to hold him like this again. Suddenly, I realized he was wriggling around under me, bucking his hips upward like he was trying to get an old Ford flivver to turn over.

_"Fuck._ Come on, Derek—harder." Ha, definitely nothing innocent about the tone in his voice, a reminder that he knew exactly what he wanted from me and that I _did_ know exactly how to give it to him. I clicked into gear, and soon we were going at it like old times. He had his legs wrapped tightly around my waist, his fingers digging into my butt, my shoulders, and I let go, no more holding back. God, he was so sweet—I'd been without the taste of him, his scent, his warm velvet skin against mine for too damn long, and I felt drunk all over again.

And, I loved him so much, my little piano player. I found myself babbling stupid things into his ear, and he just ran those hands, those long sculpted musician's fingers, down and over my back and, oh sweet Jesus, he squeezed me tighter.

I came harder than I ever had in my life.

Afterwards, we lay tangled together in rumpled bedsheets and the room was dark and cozy. We soon dozed off; at that moment, I didn't know what was going to happen for us, but it didn't matter. I wasn't worried, or afraid.

All I knew was that I was home.

* * *

><p>Well, that was a long time ago.<p>

Today, my stepson, Joseph Patrick Reid, is the spitting image of his daddy. He's grown into an amazing young man; he's brilliant like Spence, but has Penny's sweet nature and indomitable spirit. He and his pretty little wife are expecting their second child any day now, and I'm looking forward to being a granddad again.

I retired from the FBI a few months ago; once Gideon left, I sort of lost my bearings and that's not safe for someone in my line of work. I guess I never really got over that long-ago business in Harlem—Reid and I had gone to see a jazz combo and have a little dinner, when a couple of Rossi's goons sporting iron burst in and started spraying the place with their Chicago typewriters.

Thank God, Reid had seen them coming, and thanks to his quick thinking, we got behind a big heavy table and returned fire, taking them out before they could do too much damage. But afterwards, I found my boy had taken a slug in his leg. He almost bled out by the time we got him to a hospital, and I had a few hours to sit and consider what my life would be like without him.

I was pretty sure I'd just go home and eat lead, but then I got to thinking about little Joseph Patrick. He was just three at the time, and while I knew Penny and Em would raise him right without me, I figured he wouldn't ever understand how both his daddies could leave him like that, so I made the decision to stick around, whatever happened.

Thank a merciful God, Reid pulled through.

Now, all these years later, he doesn't get around so good; he complains a lot when the weather changes, and recently took to carrying a cane, but that's all right. There's more silver than gold in his long hair, and he has a look in his eyes that sometimes chills me to the bone, but most of the time, we have a good life, and now we finally have something we never had before—time.

We travel, play with our grandson, hang out with Em and Penelope, and lately, I've taken to learning piano.

Spencer'll sit by me, showing me chords, teaching me the notes. Sometimes he stands behind me and guides my fingers, and the scent of his hair or the way his hands feel on mine gets to me, and before we know it, we're on the couch with our pants down making love, just like back when we were feisty young stallions wrecking the sheets in some run-down hotel room.

Then, afterwards, we have to knock back a couple of ibuprofen and recover with a cup of hot tea like the old men that we are.

But, it's all good.

As long as he's sitting by my side, I'll play piano forever.

-The End-


End file.
